Tired is the Word of the Month (last month)

07/02/2011

Days until Con : 61

It has been a few days, and I apologize for that, but I've had a very full week of Geek. Monday night I brought my laptop out to Waffle House and wrote, for hours, but I had too much coffee and ended up staying up until about 4 in the morning. Tuesday I was off but ended up sleeping it away and then Beau got back from Indy and wanted to discuss, at Waffle House, our opinions on SWTOR. Which, for the record, hasn't changed in over two years but we have geeky quotas to meet here, so it was mandatory.

That was pretty much the bass line that wrapped around the song of my week. One night I'd stay up for some friend obligation, the next day I'd work while miserably tired, then get home and sleep until it's time to work.

It's no excuse, I'm on a journey here, a serious one, one that msnbc should write articles on. One that should be on the cover of EZines nation wide and once I get to Dragon Con should be flying high on a flag carried by a very nice looking lady Boba Fett.

Fine.
You win.

In the scope of the collection of lives that make up the earth's people and history, my vain attempt at being hot for once in my life will likely fly right under the radar fo existence. But that's fine, I'm a little peeved at the situation but otherwise unshaken. Which says a lot because I don't normally use the word peeve, it sounds like weapon, made of pee.

How has my diet and exercise been? Eh. My diet has been letting me break even, and my exercising has been non-existant. I blame my friends of course, because some weeks it feels like they all get together and said, "Hey, we haven't hung out with James in awhile, maybe we should all call him at the same time and schedule things all in the same week with him. This way he doesn't have time to work out or write his blog."

I've always suspected they had something against my blog. But I'm not sure why as I'm confident only about 10 people read this thing, and of those, 90 percent are nosey ex girlfriends hoping I fall tragically to my doom. Now I'm not saying they want me dead or wish me bodily harm. I'm saying they want what every ex really wants in their heart of hearts. That's to sleep soundly tonight knowing the new loser they traded in for the old loser (me) was a slightly better make/model of loser.

Well sleep soundly tonight ladies, but come Dragon Con you'll shake slightly as you're putting on your lipstick, and the new loser will ask you what's the matter, and you'll smile that smile ladies smile when they say " oh nothing",  but in reality they're questioning you and cosmos, and your beta fish. That's because they'd rather not have to explain this.

That's embarrassing, you couldn't see my arms, but I made this really cool look at me motion when I wrote/said this. It was totally badass and your jealously climbs to new heights, and likely threatens to jump.