Ah, 'Tis a Better Day

I awoke this morning in more of a normal fashion--Tired. Not in pain--Just tired. After all, who wouldn't be tired? Some little plastic box manufactured by General Electric woke me up, not my own body telling me it was time to get up.

I stumbled around yesterday at work feeling all the world like I was hungover. I mean it. At one point at about 7am I felt almost queasy, and I'm sure if anyone were analyzing me at that moment my face would have probably looked white and slightly shiny. Oddly enough when I got to work I felt like I needed to do a bunch of physical labor so that's what I jumped into. I basically went on the pallet offensive and did some serious housekeeping so we could have some space. Of all the days I could choose to do physical labor (the key being that I chose to do it) why would I pick a day when I felt so crappy? Maybe I hoped to beat my body into submission? Maybe I wanted to sweat it out? I dunno... It's just weird. Although I did feel better as the day wore on, it was only marginally better.

I hoped to go to bed early, but it was not meant to be. Sarah texted me at about dinner time and asked if she could come over and do some homework. Duh! Of course! She cited "too many distractions" at home (aka: mom?) as the main reason, but she also wanted to print a couple things. Her new laptop never did have her printer installed on it. Jeez, who is her bonehead IT tech anyway? He put the file on the "desktop" of her laptop but never ran it because it would have asked to plug the printer in (and he didn't have it handy). Still, that was weeks ago that I (I mean the IT guy) should have done that.

She did a lot of work while she was here. I left her totally alone downstairs with Radio Paradise playing on my laptop and through my little stereo downstairs. Every time I went down there to the kitchen or whatever she had her cell phone out and was texting someone, but she was also steadily cranking the work out. By the time she was done she had 6 or 8 pages of some pretty heavy math stuff.

I asked her about her boyfriend--Whether they were together, and she said no. I told her that I wanted her to be careful "out there" and that there were too many things that could go wrong. At that point, I admitted to her that I have the "Big H" and told her she definitely didn't want to have to deal with that. I gave her two condoms and told her to put them somewhere and keep them handy. I said they are not a "ticket to ride" but more like "cab fare" if you get stuck somewhere. We talked a few minutes about "H" in general as she was getting her stuff together to go home.

I'm glad that's out in the open. Most everyone else I know already knows that it's part of my life. Well okay--immediate family doesn't know. I may bring them into the loop someday too. Parents? Nah..

Hey look--It's Friday!