Well, it's been a few days since i've written, and i wish i had some awesome excuse for why i wasn't writing, and if i had to come up with something, some reason why i haven't blogged, it could be summed up with two words, old and lazy...neither of these were a particular surprise to me, as i have been me for all my life, and that means that sometimes, i will just do nothing. Ironically, with the summer off and no real plans ahead of me, i really wanted to watch the movie "Office Space" (and if you haven't seen this movie, it's a must see, and you should stop reading my shit right now and download it on Netflix- it's a classic, even if you like your job), but couldn't get myself to the video store or Fry's to buy it on Blue-Ray. This is when I began to figure out the implications of getting old.
I woke up on Wednesday of last week and I was in agonizing pain, shooting from my back (those of you that are laughing, it'll come back to haunt you like testicular cancer haunts Josh Bidwell, pride of the University of Oregon). I wanted to do a variety of things over the course of the weekend, and had even contemplated a drive to my favorite place in the world, Las Vegas, to enjoy a little stress free time before the NFL National torunament (not football, but visualizing my team playing football is humor in and of itself), but all of these things (including a drive to Blockbuster or some video store) were cut down like California Redwoods by paper companies, as I was in too much pain to get anything done. So I went to the doctor, and I will preface this with something that is probably pretty close to universally true- I hate, hate hate hate, hate doctors. I hate doctors like Silky Johnson hated on Buck Nasty's suit, like Hatfields hate McCoys, like a chornic masturbator would hate living in the Big Brother house. I have a variety of reasons I hate doctors, and I imagine the blog format will allow me to rant about those in more detail at a later date. Doctors generally just seem really intent of getting you out of the office and work too hard to give you drugs rather than try to prevent the problem at all or find means that have to be healthier than pumping pharmaceuticals into you. So anyway, I went to the doctor to explain my predicament, and she asked if I had ever taken painkillers before, to that I answered that I had. She then perscribes something which I can only imagine is some sort of elephant tranquilizer, because these things destroyed me, I was useless for hours after taking half of the prescribed dose (apparently she took my saying I've taken painkillers to mean I had an Oxycodone pill addiction, and needed something strong, which I appreciate). Clearly, i needed to find way to resolve the issues of pain and not make myself the dumbest person in any room i would ever enter, and I have been riding that wave for the last week.
which leads me to the lazy part. At the point I made the decision to not take the painkillers and just try to ride it out, and to take copious, liver runing amounts of over the counter anti-inflammatory types of painkillers, I have no reason why I couldn't have gotten things done, but if i had to catalog my time since I woke up last wednesday to right now, it would be an accurate to say i've played a lot of video games, i've watched a ton of television, but i haven't gone to visit friends, I haven't gone shopping to make sure i had food stuff I wanted (which at this point is futile, as I will gone for a week, leaving Saturday). I've found myslef making a variety of excuses, and the only one that really has been true was the "drugs are kicking my ass, dawg" excuse. It's ironic, becase I am really lazy, my parents instilled something I've head referred to as "guilt." I can't sit around and do absolutely nothing. So, in between games of NBA 2K9, Tiger Woods Golf, online poker and just being enveloped by televsion of all sorts, good and bad, I have managed to get one goal a day done. The goals I set for given day are framed by my experience with my friend and old debate coach, Bill Shanahan. He once told me to set goals and dreams you can only imagine being able to attain, and to not be disappointed by the failure, because your "failure" may be a lot further, a lot better, than the goal you would have set for yourself. That being said, I set goals I would have assumed would take me a week to finish, one for each of the last four days, and i've gotten them done in their entirity, which is simultaneously stunning and depressing (a lot of it was school prep, and it took me almost no time to do something i'd been putting off for years because i was afraid I didn't have the time). Now I have most of my major tasks for the summer taken care of. A friend said i should try to write the Great American Novel...i'm just gonna try and write in the blog close to daily...
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