One sore blogger returneth

I don't remember getting this sore from wakeboarding and skiing last year. Maybe I'm getting old...I was out for about two hours yesterday doing this crap, and then I woke up this morning and could barely walk.

But, that didn't stop me from going out again today. Call me a glutton for punishment. I do like me some good, hard, deep-muscle punishment. So good for the soul.

Anyway, we're home. I think I managed to strike a decent balance between work and play this weekend. Sitting on a deck and working surrounded by large trees and no highway sounds all around beats the hell out of being plunked down in front of this computer in my 95-degree living room, sweating and listening to Jurrasic 5 and proofreading my index to be sure it's in alphabetical order. The bugs are better even than Jurrasic 5 to work to...

Look at this utterly disgusting city. After being in a lake house in Tennessee all weekend, where the air and water are so clean, I come home to this. Shit, it's no wonder I have asthma. I know some of that is water in the air, humidity, but really. When I drive by other cities, they don't look quite this dirty. It doesn't help that we sit in this Ohio River valley, a low spot, and all the pollution and gunk sinks to the center. This is where I live. This is where I skate. When I'm rich, I'm getting out of here.

I bitch about it, but I guess I actually like it here. Or I would have moved.

Am I typing this out loud? Christ, someone shut me up.

It's been a long time since I've worked this much--so much that I'm taking it on even a min-vacation with me. My brain does all sorts of weird things under pressure, and I say things I would normally edit myself from saying in normal, everyday conversation with people. The fact that Salacious Crumb has been acting all rotten all day is not helping matters. I hope I didn't commit any horrible sins with my mouth this weekend. M's mother is uber-super-goddess hostess and is just constantly offering food, food, food, and I feel bad that I've got all these diet restrictions. Rather than shake the boat with her, I find it's easier to just eat what she gives me--and pay the consequences later. I've been paying the consequences for about nine hours now and I hope this passes soon because it sucks. The lengths to which we go in order to keep people happy in their misperceptions...ugh. M's family. Man, them people sure do like to eat. Foo. I felt like a bird around them. M's mother kept saying, don't you want more this? Surely you want more that. You couldn't possibly have eaten enough. Here, have some dessert. I was all, dude, this is more food than I've eaten in months, please stop. No really. Please.

As far as I know, the index is due Wednesday, so theoretically, this hellish shenanigans will be over then. Now that I've got this camera, it's a sure bet I won't be signing up to do this again. Got what I wanted, and I'm ready for this to be over.

I feel stupid. My thoughts are dank puddles within the squoodgy mass of gray matter that is my brain. This is a sure sign that yet again, I've stayed up past my bedtime. I shall leave you to gaze at this adorable picture of my dog, and I'm going to go crawl into bed and moan about my aching muscles and my sour gallbladder and the fact that tomorrow is Monday again already and I'm woefully unprepared for work.