I am bored out of my effing mind.

You know what I’ve been doing this week? Laundry. Dishes. Cooking. Playing Lexulous on the Facebook. I think I currently have six games going. I’ve been to the grocery store three times. I read Calvin and Hobbes comics to my four-year-old. She doesn’t get them, but she doesn’t care.

I tried yoga yesterday. I watched Yoga for Health: Basics streaming on Netflix. I couldn’t understand a word the woman was saying, and despite the word “basics” in the title, it was not a yoga video for beginners–unless they are beginners who somehow managed to develop superhuman strength and flexibility via some other method before deciding to try out yoga just to see what all the fuss was about. When you do stretches, can you touch your chest to your knees? Everyone on this video can. Even the token dude. But I digress. Unlike my first Pilates workout, I was able to actually do some of the exercises/positions/tasks–whatever the hell you call them, but I am inexplicably not-sore today, so I was probably doing them wrong. Anyway, that was my try-something-new for the week. I’m going to have to figure out some other way to strengthen my core or whatever. I read the other day that it’s supposed to stave off dementia or something, and I need all the help I can get.

What does a weak core have to do with dementia? I have no idea, but my mind is far enough gone that I assume this correlation must make perfect sense to someone with an unbroken brain.

Later this morning I’m taking Girlfriend to the pediatrician to have a little look-see at this wart-like growth on her foot. I think it’s a wart. It looks kind of like a wart. It’s been around for a few weeks, but at first it looked like some dead skin or something, and only recently it’s started to look like a wart, but it also looks like a kind of weird wart. So because I have health insurance and most of this doctor visit is going to be paid for by some faceless corporation, I am having an expert look at it instead of slathering it with Compound W and calling it good. The privileges of the upper-middle class!

I am noticing during the composition of this blog post that my hyphen key is sticking. It wasn’t sticking yesterday. I know it wasn’t sticking yesterday because do you know how often I use the hyphen key? Just re-read this post alone and determine for yourself my dependence on the hyphen. I can’t afford a sticky hyphen key. If it continues to malfunction, I will have to start speaking German and use a lot of biglongstupidwordsrolledintoone. Or, as the Germans call it, Mehrererwörtereinlangesdummeswortgemachen. The Germans are so efficient.

Last night I spent two whole hours at the chocolate cafe, slurping hot chocolate and trying to write something. I achieved hot chocolate slurpage. The other was a less-successful endeavor. (Or as the Germans say, Wenigererfolgreicherversuch.) You know what’s worse than a blank page? A page full of words that were supposed to represent the brilliance that was in your head but are actually just boring and pointless and, worse, probably do represent the “brilliance” that was in your head. (Trust me, you don’t want to know what the Germans call that.) I had 3-4 pages of that, which one might consider an accomplishment if one had not been so looking forward to two hours to oneself to at long last transcribe one’s brilliance.

Well, I’d thrill you more with my wacky escapades, but Girlfriend is climbing on top of my head and I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Ciao, baby.

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