So I’m back to my habits of disordered eating. Mind you, I don’t have an eating disorder, but certainly, my feeding habits are shoddy at best and then when I’m busy or stressed, I tend to skip meals because I can’t be bothered to stop what I’m doing. I know, I’m messed up and I should really watch myself considering my mother has stomach problems and as a child, I gave myself UTI because I didn’t want to take the time to pee. Psycho. Anyway, the last two weeks, I’ve been ditching on the lunch group at work. To be honest, part of my reason is that I get bored with their dining choices. Not particularly tasty and well, the group is so big that it’s difficult to really mesh. In the end, it’s like eating mediocre food in this awkward/uncomfortable environment. Sorry, but I’d rather skip and leave earlier than normal (which, btw, still isn’t early).

So work itself is going ok. Busy, and sometimes I feel like I don’t have answers when questions are asked (I told you my short-term memory has gone to shit) so then I appear retarded or unaware or not on top of things. Whatever though, I’m working pretty hard. And while I have a knack for tracking things, I have to say, it’s often a pain in the ass. I don’t like harassing people and following up a million times. Is this a glorified secretarial type thing I’m doing here? I don’t know. Working with all these hardcore EEs and MEs and ChemEs is giving me a serious complex. I’m like in that weird in-between space of not being technical enough for the product but also not really non-technical. Hard to explain. Anyway, yes, some days– or rather, at least once a day– I feel stupid.

My god though, I’m digging deep to unearth my stash of engineering “knowledge.” Shit, man. I had to do unit conversions the other day, and I was slow as a snail. I haven’t touched a TI or HP graphing calculator in years. I swear the CEO thought I’d never done math before. I couldn’t even work the basic desk calculator (having gotten so used to converting shit on Google and just doing +/- operations with the computer calculator). Seriously, I need to dig my HP out of the storage boxes. I can’t use the TI crap where you input everything in series. I do the reverse Polish notation (RPN) stuff. It would still take me a bit to warm up, but I already know I can’t deal with the equation style input. What else? Oh yeah, had to research all this stuff about converting gas concentrations, like ppm and g/L… we’re talking ideal gas law and shit. What the hell? It’s hard to imagine I once considered myself a math/eng/science person. Now I’m total fru fru, I tell you. No calcs. Just writing and emailing correspondence. See? Glorified secretary.

Anyway, our project is going ok. I’m having some issues with glossing over our system performance. I guess you could say I’ve always been a “half empty” kind of person, so when the Pres downplays the errors and focuses on the benefits, I feel dishonest. Maybe that’s not the right word… I guess I feel uncomfortable not being as blunt or frank as I would prefer. I don’t know what my hang up is exactly, but I’m kind of feeling like my position is not going to lean into marketing (as I had originally thought)… don’t think that’s up my alley anymore.

In non-work related news, I finally got a car! Jesus fucking Christ. How long have I researched that? For weeks, I was in total analysis paralysis. There must have been like four stages and each stage I thought I arrived at a decision, only to realize later it was the wrong selection. For example, at first, I wanted the natural gas vehicle. Then it was noisy as hell and supposedly, you couldn’t drive when temps dipped below 35 (it actually frosts here at night). Then, I was going for the used 2005 Civic hybrid. Then I upped to the 2006 because Honda did a redesign and the new engine had more kick, plus it was more fuel efficient. In the end? I got the 2007 hybrid, because it was actually cheaper than a used 2006 plus I could get the alternative fuel vehicle federal tax credit. So damn complicated, and that’s not all. My main motivation was to get the HOV sticker, because I don’t know what is up but since Thanksgiving, my commute has gotten longer. Literally, it was draining the life out of me. So the deal in California is, you have to apply for the sticker. And my god is that a process. Plus, the state DMV is only issuing 10,000 stickers, and supposedly, they’ve already handed out 6,000. So the sticker is now this limited edition thing. I’m telling you, there’s going to be crazy sticker theft! I’m stressed, because depending on how quickly all the bullshit paperwork gets processed (I’ll have to go do all this crap in person), I may very well be SOL. In other words, I paid a premium for a hybrid (in the end, it’s still just a Civic, know what I mean?) only to be denied that damn coveted sticker (my ticket to a shorter commute). But I’m trying to prepare myself for the worst: even if I don’t get the sticker, the car aligns with my principles, blah, blah.

No seriously, I am glad to have a hybrid. I’ll definitely enjoy not having to fill up every week. That said, I’ve gained some insight from this whole car-buying process: I’m becoming more and more of a commitment-phobe. Not with my relationship with John or anything, but just like with settling down and with life in general. It’s tough to explain, but John and I are both finding it difficult to say, want to buy a condo/home or even purchase the car, because we now measure these things in months or years of freedom overseas. So we reason, “For x dollars, we can live in China for 1 year without a job… ” That kind of perspective just changes everything: we now have such a different way of valuing things. Sigh. I’m rambling. It’s late. Well, I guess I still ended up caving and getting the car. Poor John. Now he definitely won’t get that convertible he’s been eyeing. Instead, he gets my Camry– with its dysfunctional ABS and screwy driver-side window. On the bright side, at least he won’t have to walk to work in the brisk cold.

John and I woke up feeling rather adventurous today. We decided to spend the day in the city. The pups came along– they’re always up for a car ride, even if they can’t keep their heads out on the freeway. We checked out another new dog park– Douglass Park. A former softball field, Douglass Park is now all dog, with the mud and puddles to prove it. Still, John and I enjoyed the pitstop. We took in some awesome views of the city: the park is situated atop a huge hill (going up the 30-degree incline, I worried that maybe I should have had the mechanic repair the anti-lock braking system…). Remy and Martin never spend much time playing with other dogs; they just run off on their own. The park was fenced, but the perimeter was super hilly– elevation difference reminded me a lot of a vortex– high along the edges but low and deep in the center. And you should have seen Remy. She climbed and climbed– ran all along the fence, with Martin chasing her; they were like dogs straight out of Homeward Bound or something, so boisterous. John and I just spun around watching them from below. I met a lady there, Lynn, who was there with her border collie. That dog used to work on a ranch: she knew all kinds of commands– different whistles, hand signals, voice orders. Ridiculously smart.

After we got our dodos wiped out, we figured then was as good a time as any to go shopping. I mean, we were already downtown. Plus, after watching the What Not to Wear marathon yesterday, we were feeling especially inspired. Now I’m aware of all the criticisms about Banana Republic–gentrified, boring, cookie-cutter. Well, sorry to disappoint but we got sucked in. Cut us some slack though, for people as un-stylish as we, we’re desperate. We don’t have it in us to “create” looks. We have to go with ready-made. Kind of like my cooking– I need shit to be oven-ready. No prep, no mixing, no seasoning. I just pop the crap in the oven and voila, dinner is done. So yes, extend that philosophy to how I dress. Besides, you already know I’m a cheap bastard… when I try to “mix and match,” I’m telling you (and my friends will tell you), it’s a mess. To be honest, I think I have made some progress over the last year, but somehow every time I watch WNTW, I realize again that I still need serious help. I need to be on that show. Hello friends, are you listening? Nominate me!! $5k to blow on clothes! Who in her right mind would ever turn Stacy and Clinton down? Duh!

Anyway, back to BR. They had some decent promos (we got sucked into their damn card, ok?) and frankly, we’re just relieved to find something suitable for our demographic. Seriously. These days when I go into department store juniors sections, it’s just all. wrong. Then I try misses and that shit is so fuddy-duddy even by my standards. At least now we’re armed with more basics. Not terribly daring but thankfully passable and professional, even if it’s a tad conservative. Welcome to yup land after all, right? Well whatever. The bigger picture is that John and I actually had some fun trying on different outfits. And the oddest surprise of the day? Service! Jesus, it actually still exists. I don’t know if it’s because we were in the heart of a legitimate city, or if the stores have finally figured out that good service is good for business, but I could not believe it. There were a billion sales reps posted all over, and they actually showed follow-through. I was stunned. What? You’ll actually go check in the back for my size? Do I need to tip you?

In the fitting room, I was spoiled rotten for about an hour by Will, a stylist (that’s what he said). Granted, he took many liberties trying to expand my comfort zone way beyond where I was willing to go, but still, he rolled my cuffs like a champ. Even if I had the sweater on just to try out the color for like 10 seconds, he prepped my cuffs. And when shit didn’t fit? He went to find my size. A true miracle, I tell you. Amazingly, John didn’t utter one complaint the whole time… then again, how could he? He had his solitaire on the Treo AND a comfy seat. Thank goodness for Will. Sigh. In the end, I nixed the striped crew sweater and the big belt and the boxy, short jacket Will loved, but I did leave with several fitted shirts and v-neck sweaters.

Surprisingly, our good luck with service continued at Macy’s. The dude in the shoe department removed the stuffing from the shoes and fit the shoe on John’s foot. I’m telling you, shopping with decent service makes for a whole other experience. I could actually drop some dough shopping this way. Wink, wink!

Ok, so I definitely have some pent-up anger, OBVIOUSLY. Tonight, I tried again to move forward. This time, in my desperation, I decided to open up both Word and Excel and venture into their Help menus. Look what I found: the most comprehensive keyboard shortcuts list I have discovered to date! On quick scan, I didn’t find my Alt-O-C-A equivalent, but this looks promising nonetheless. For those of you who are interested, I’ve converted the info to PDF and posted the files online. Word Shortcuts and Excel Shortcuts. Let’s hope this subdues some of my kicking and screaming. ;#)

I am still going through major growing pains with my new laptop. The other day, I had a serious flipout. I got home late from work, and then I opened up an Excel file to make some changes. I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I’m a serious keyboard shortcuts queen: I hate using the mouse. Maybe because half the time, I can’t find the damn cursor on the screen, or I just don’t have the coordination necessary to click exactly on the button or arrow or whatever. I don’t know what the exact reasons are, but I have a love affair with shortcuts. So anyway, I pulled up this file. I think I was doing some silly formatting thing, like I wanted to do a column auto fit or something. So on PC, it’s just Alt, O, C, A. Done. Well, I went to do the equivalent on Mac and Jesus, there was no keyboard shortcut. Like how do you fucking activate the menu? Ugh. Had to use the goddamn mouse–seriously cramping my style. Then, later I was like on that zapcar website, and I wanted to view the video. My browser kept saying I didn’t have some plug-in installed. Fine. I followed the links, and somehow I still couldn’t get the stupid thing installed. Now I’m no computer genius, but I was Technology Manager at LifeLine AND web team associate at FMF. What the hell? I think I know how to follow directions on installing a plug-in!! So damn frustrating! In the end, I never even got it. In fact, I STILL don’t have the plug-in to view the Obvio in action. John says Apple isn’t to blame, that the download is messed up or whatever. Frankly, I don’t give a shit what the excuse is. I just know I was misled. User-friendly my ass. Everything is totally counter-intuitive. That night, I had a total meltdown. I detached the laptop from my display and put everything back in the box. I brought out my trusty Vaio. Who cares if it doesn’t have DVI. At least I have my column auto fit shortcut. Geez.

The next day, I felt bad for flipping out and removing everything Mac from my workspace. What was I going to do with this damn laptop? John had already spent so much time moving my files, installing software, upgrades, etc. So I apologized to him for my bad attitude and researched online for books on Mac keyboard shortcuts. I found the perfect book– keyboard shortcuts was in its title. That was my answer! Then I went to the library. They didn’t carry it. Went to Borders– it was out of print. Once again, I was and still am SOL. Yes, I know about turning on full keyboard access with Ctrl-F1. It’s not the fucking same. Not even close. I can’t stop cursing the absence of this critical feature. How could the shortcuts be overlooked? It’s like the obstinate one-button trackpad/mouse all over again. Who is designing this shit??!

Today I had another un-user-friendly experience. I had to upgrade my firmware, so I followed the directions. Turned off the unit. Held the power button down until the LED flashed. Then the damn thing beeped loudly (this wasn’t in the instructions, mind you). Long story short, I fucked up the upgrade and managed to render the unit completely unusable. Then I had to research recovering the firmware, blah, blah. WTF??! Again, it’s not like I have my parents’ level of technical ignorance and yet Mac still manages to screw me over and over again. Sigh. I managed to regain functionality but Jesus, this thing is really trying me. One day, I may just have to run it over with my car. Yup, we’re talking scorned-by-Ebay-level of anger here. Not good.

My Mac has returned to the priority location on my desk. It is again connected to my display via the DVI. But I regret the return of the Mac every single day. It’s a constant thorn in my side. I know, if I feel that strongly about it, I should just go back. But I’m in too deep now. Somehow I’ll have to find the strength to tough this out. Fucking A.

Another Thanksgiving Day is over. Sigh. John and I went over to my friend Fonda’s house. She and her hubby made quite a spread, including a 20-lb. turkey (for five people) and homemade pecan pie. I missed eating a few of my favorites– yams/marshmallows and pumpkin pie– but certainly, I was thrilled not to have to lift a finger. It rocks to have friends who love to cook super tasty foods. So, I had a good time. Fonda and I just hung out upstairs while the guys watched Under Siege, some tacky action flick featuring a woman with “delicious titties.” Gross terminology but whatever.

Two days later I’m still stuffed silly. I’m like in that dangerous mode now, where you’re stuffed 24-7. I hit the sack full and wake up full. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from eating large, hearty meals throughout the day. I’m on auto-pilot to destruction, really. The day after Turkey Day, I craved Windy City Pizza, so that’s where we went for lunch. I hit the Safeway bakery searching for the elusive pumpkin pie– all sold out until Saturday. Instead, I settled for the Its-It ice cream. Like I said, I’m on the path to oblivion. Pizza, ice cream, and a movie (The Breakup) the day after Thanksgiving… the perfect lazy-ass day. Oh, we did actually go outside. Before lunch, we took the pups to a new dogpark in Palo Alto, and I test drove the Civic hybrid. I’m still on the fence about the hybrid…

Today, we’re going to try being more mobile. I suggested checking out the horse races down the street, but he’s opting for walking around downtown. I think he’s going to win out. God, downtown is going to be crazy decked out with Christmas shit. Oh well, I have to “get into the spirit” some time or another. 😛

So I’ve been researching AFV (alternative fuel vehicles) lately. On Saturday, based on all my readings online, I determined that the Honda Civic GX was for me. The GX is a CNG vehicle, which means it runs on compressed natural gas. No gasoline whatsoever. So the benefits include super clean emissions, oil independence, and of course, the coveted HOV-lane sticker. After calling about eight different Honda dealerships in the area, I finally landed one with the GX. Most people didn’t even know what I was talking about over the phone. Up until now, the GX wasn’t really marketed to consumers. Rather, Honda targeted government peeps; hence all the white CNG vans and white sedans. So boring.

Saturday afternoon, John and I drove to San Leandro. I test drove the GX, and my. god. That thing was louder than hell. Not because of the CNG, but simply because it was a Civic instead of an Accord. I mean, I don’t drive a fancy schmancy car. I have a Camry, but holy shit, is there a difference in the road noise. I didn’t even take the thing on the highway. I just drove down the main strip, and Jesus, with the radio on, I still couldn’t hear a thing. There was just constant rumbling. We were totally turned off. Then, the trunk space was practically nonexistent due to the CNG fuel tank, so the vehicle only carries 8 gallons. Gas mileage is pretty much comparable to the normal Civic too, so I suppose one question is “How green do I want to go?” In the end, this just wasn’t the answer, unfortunately.

While our Camry was in the shop for service (which sucked btw. Don’t ever go to Toyota 101 in Redwood City. Total ghetto service!), we drove around a Prius again. I had tried this car the last time the Camry was in service; I hated it then. But I figured I’d give it another go. Well, off the bat, we had the same problem as with the Civic: noisy as hell. You can forget about having a conversation in the vehicle. Seriously. Forget it. On top of that, the Prius is narrow. And it just has the feel of a cheap car. I mean, there’s no other way to say it really. And I guess it makes sense to keep the gas mileage high and all. Crazy thing, in order to get the HOV sticker in CA, the DMV requires more than just hybrid technology. Your vehicle has to get 45 mpg, so I can kiss good-bye to a slew of other green cars: Camry hybrid, Accord hybrid, Lexus hybrids (well, if John went down that road…). Basically, my choices are Prius, Civic, and Insight. Yup, looks like I’ll be sticking with the Camry a bit longer. What can I do?

John and I drove past a Wendy’s last night, and somehow their Greek pita wrap slipped into my mind. God, those were the days. I was a grad student when John introduced me to their super tasty vegetarian wrap. Fresh, crispy lettuce, juicy tomatoes, big chunks of feta cheese, zingy dressing– all contained in a piping hot, fluffy pita. At the time, John was living with his brother Tim in Laurel. The Wendy’s was just up the street, and with the drive-thru open til 1 a.m. every night, well, let’s just say John was a frequent visitor. Damn. The wrap with the chocolate frosty– it was the perfect quick and easy meal.

I remember soon after I’d moved to Raleigh to start my first job out of school, I drove by a Wendy’s on the way to work. For some reason, on that particular day, I thought of the wrap. All day at the office, I craved the sandwich: that was going to be my first stop after work. So finally, at 5:30, I pulled into the drive-thru. I spoke into the mic– “a Greek veggie pita, please.” “Uh, we don’t have that.” Totally stunned, I said, “WWWWHHHHAATTTT??!” “Uh, yeah, that’s not on the menu. We don’t have that anymore.” “When did that happen? Is that all Wendy’s or just you?” I know, a totally idiotic question considering they are a chain. Duh. But I just couldn’t believe they took that away! I was so disappointed. I went home and immediately called John who was on business in New England. We were stupefied. WTF??! Why the wrap? The next day, he called me at lunch. He was at a Wendy’s, eating the wrap. Mother fucker. There he was, chomping on what was very possibly the last Greek pita wrap ever, telling me every detail and juicy morsel over the phone. Nice. Don’t rub it in or anything. Oh well, a few days later, he– like the rest of us— was SOL. That was when we started making veggie wraps at home– not the same, but still yummy.

So yesterday got me thinking… food triggers so many memories. There’s no denying it: John and I are big time eaters. And you know what? Surprisingly, the small college town of Gainesville (grad school) ranks pretty high up. The garlic knots and salad at Leonardo’s 706. God, my mouth waters even now– six years later– thinking about them. Who knew there were salads besides the standard house and caesar? Real assorted greens, Northern white beans, a creamy garlic dressing… heavenly. Then there was the Reuben and potato salad at McAllister’s, the hummus at Falafel King., forever etched in our memories. Sigh. We had some good times then.

In Raleigh, Claudio’s (now closed!?) had the best penne alla vodka. The Chop House was great for succulent pork chops. Condi’s Italian market downtown had crazy delish deli meats. I enjoyed Raleigh– it was a convenient city. I especially loved how you could park right near the door at RDU (Raleigh-Durham airport) for like $4/day. And the airport was only 10 minutes away. Whenever we attended a performance at the theater downtown, we would be in and out of the parking lot in 2 minutes. So easy breezy. They say things there are different now. Guess that’s inevitable when cities hit the big leagues.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately: I’m battling a bad attitude… again. I know, I once promised, “if I had a job, I wouldn’t complain at all…” blah, blah, blah. Well I like the job, but the job isn’t exactly leaving me time for much else. In fact, John and I are so caught up doing our own job tracks, we barely even talk anymore. It’s just eat, sleep, and work. Totally boring and depressing. Aside from that, he suffers from so many ailments. Today he went home early with major migraines, but of course the day he took off early, I stayed late. The day I got out early, he stayed late. Such is the grind: missed connections that ultimately lead to two people living separate lives while sharing one apartment. Does that make any sense?

We tried to have a nice dinner out this evening. Hit some steak restaurant. The steakhouse appeared promising, but we ended up waiting 15 minutes for a waiter all while 80’s music blasted in the background. If I had wanted to go to a diner, that’s where I would have gone! Needless to say, I was a grump. My commute tonight took 45 minutes, 20 minutes of which was spent in gridlock, moving about 20 mph. So frustrating.

At work, we had a client visit today, and I prepped all the documents/handouts. Then I was called to talk about them, and I got all nervous and stressed. I did a horrible job. I mean, the client put in a purchase order, but still, I just came across nervous. And I don’t know what my problem is. I thought I had overcome this issue. Wrong. The anxiety is back and I’m just fed up with it. I mean it’s fine, I just have to work on it. But then I also feel this disconnect with my co-workers. Some of them seem really nice, but others, when we go out to lunch, I feel very quiet like there is nothing to talk about. Why does this happen? Again, I thought I’d taken care of these problems. So troubling. And I dunno. I just feel boring even though I don’t really believe I am. I mean, I have hobbies (the doggies, my blog, yelp??!), opinions, stories. I dunno. I guess with the weekend coming up, I just feel like another two days of rest will quickly be filled with errands (I have the get the car serviced).

My next door neighbor called tonight. The guy has kidney stones, so he’s going in for surgery tonight. Poor thing. I agreed to watch the baby dinosaurs while the parents are at the hospital. Came home to shit and piss all over again. Sigh.

You see, sometimes life just isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. Now I have the job I always wanted, but there is nothing for me here. I’m just a robot in a cycle, a hamster in the wheel. No worries, I’m not suicidal or anything. Just feeling a bit bummed about life choices. I complained to John that I didn’t feel connected with my coworkers. He said I needed to try to think about commonalities. He suggested a Friday happy hour, but I dunno. After a few weeks, I almost would rather eat lunch at my desk and get out early. None of the area restaurants there are that good anyway. Is that wrong that I’d rather leave early than “bond” with the colleagues? Shrug.

So I swallowed my last pill on Friday… I’m still not 100% but definitely doing better. Thankfully, the craisins are gone. The red spots are still there and oddly, when I wear denim, I swear that area on my mid-right thigh gets intensely itchy all over again but other than that, I’m all right. I just hope I never get the shingles again. My medical friends keep saying Valtrex doesn’t cure the shingles… let’s just hope my immunity fights it off next time though.

In other news, I worked my first full week at the job. A few things are really beginning to trouble me though: my carbon dioxide emissions and my gas mileage. My old Camry gave me about 33 mpg highway, so imagine my shock when I calculated an embarrassing 22 mpg on this vehicle. Both Camrys, but this one has a V6. I know, I have to do something. I started reading up on biofuels already, but shit man, I have to set up a large scale chemical production facility to process the used vegetable oils for the car… Plus John and I are still in the midst of Indecision 2007. Get a second car? Stay in San Mateo? Move to Foster City? Move to Palo Alto? Too many frickin’ considerations.

Oh god, almost forgot to comment on the elections. Un fucking believable! Dems actually won control of Congress. Hallelujah! I’m thrilled, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel disappointed… after all the bullshit, the race was still that close?! How much worse do things have to get before the Dems win with frickin’ room to breathe!?! Fucked up, I tell you.

Remy woke me up at the crack of dawn yesterday. John calls her Remy the Rooster now, because she’s becoming quite demanding about her early-morning walks. Just as well, I was slated to volunteer at the Green Festivals downtown. 9 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. I know, I’m an idiot. And to make matters worse, I was pegged to work the will-call ticket booth. Terrific. The first rainy, dreary cold morning in ages, and here I was alone in a freezing cold veal box. “Redeem your free t-shirt with this coupon. These badges are good for today and tomorrow. You can pick up a program inside the main door.” Repeat for four and a half fucking hours! I don’t know how I get myself into these things. After all the disappointments I’ve experienced with networking events, meet up groups, volunteer gigs, you’d think I would learn my fucking lesson. Nope. I’m idealistic and retarded that way: I am a masochistic optimist. I mean, at first, I thought volunteering at this event would be cool: I’d meet like-minded people. Well whatever. Didn’t meet a goddamn soul working by myself in a fucking stall. At least I got into the conference for free– there were lots of exhibitors selling green products and giving out free magazines, coupons, and samples. I also picked up some interesting information on electric cars and biofuels. I’m totally eyeing the ZAP Obvio. It’s so irresistibly cute!

Because of my damn rash, I couldn’t sleep all last night. Even the slightest contact with my clothes caused extreme discomfort (throbbing and irritation). I took a blazing hot shower. Then I changed the sheets. I read some article about the recent rise of bed bugs… After that, I started itching all over, so I searched our mattress frantically looking for bed bugs. Nothing.

Today, I spent all morning calling dermatologist offices, trying to book a goddamn same-day appointment. Frickin’ vain-ass Americans, practically all the derms were booked to like December! And you know most patients are there for Botox and Restylene and all that non-emergency bullshit. Anyway, thank goodness one place had an opening. After a sleepless night, I had to get this shit diagnosed.

Well fuck me, I’ve got the shingles. The scientific name, herpes zoster, is enough to make me feel like I belong in a Leper colony. Seriously, I feel dirty. And even though the condition is not contagious, John has this frightful look on his face when I touch him with my leg. “Stay away, Craisins!”

So apparently, the shingles is a reactivation of the chicken pox virus. Experts aren’t sure what triggers the reactivation, but usually it happens in adults over 50, i.e. in people with weakened immune systems. I mean, I’ve always admitted to being an old fart, but Jesus, I’m now classified with senior citizens and people with suppressed immune systems, i.e. people with AIDS, cancer, organ transplants??! Yeah, wtf? I suppose I was a little stressed, but puhleez, I certainly still considered myself healthy. Big wake up call.

So I’m on anti-viral meds now. The med box cautions against operating motor vehicles. Pretty much the drugs knock me out like Benedryl does.

I read that even after the rash disappears, that area of skin and nerves may remain annoyingly sensitive to any contact with fabric. So shit, I have a field trial starting next week and I’m going to be drowsy, itchy, and achy in the nerves. Just shoot me already. Fuckin’ skin, ain’t nothing but trouble. Guess I’m staying in tonight.