Are You Okay?
The other day Melody asked me over AIM (yahoo? I dunno which instant messaging protocol, it doesn’t matter, I say AIM like Kleenex now) if I was okay. She said that I seemed down.
Okay, now, after the lot of you stop laughing because she had to ask if I was down, here’s the weird part: I wasn’t. I was busy working or looking on ebay for stuff that I don’t bid on because I don’t need it but isn’t it nice to know that I could buy a ceramic monkey statue if I wanted one and whew I just killed an hour without making my brain do any heavy lifting. So, what is important about someone asking me if I’m okay? I dunno, she’s one of the few people to have asked it right. When I am actually feeling like crap (which, believe it or not, happens) I always want someone to ask in the pointed, tenacious way that she did. Good luck trying to get that exact phrasing and attitude correct. The wrong approach will likely just annoy the shit out of me.
I’ve been happy with the whole school thing this semester. My classes are filling the usual pattern:
- CSci 2021: super easy
- CSci 4041: interesting
- Math: I don’t really know what is going on and I’m having a hard time caring
- Art: the biggest challenge is staying awake through four hours of soothing oration
I’ve even been enjoying the torment of exercise in bicycle form. My Surly is comfortable and fast. I can pick it up with one hand without even a grunt. It hurts like hell to ride up Johnson and my ass hurts when I get on the bike in the morning.
Goddamnit, I like my boss’s blog better than mine: The domain of Xopl. This should not come to a surprise to those persons who regularly visit my junk drawer of a web site. I could have gone for booze with him tonight, but I don’t want to worry about not being able to catch a bus back from the useful parts of Minneapolis at bar close.
I wonder if anyone is home. I need a drink. Maybe I should bike to Grumpys.