...and I'll blog if I want to.

You would blog too, if it happened to you.

Morning arrived like any other, with me wishing nights were longer and wondering why both my arms were numb. I staggered in to the kitchen, and down to the basement to bring up a Gatorade for the day and put it in the freezer until it was time to go to work. One of our cats had zipped past me as I shambled down to the basement and proceeded to nibble on some potted plants my mom had brought in for the winter. Fortunately, he's a sucker for laundry basket rides and a casual snapping of fingers over one results in him hopping in, laying down, and glancing up with a “carry me upstairs, already” expression.

When I arrived upstairs, I noticed a basket on the table with various shirts, snacks and other assorted items. I opened one box to discover a Verizon cell phone. It didn't play out like that television ad, but I protested to my parents that it was too expensive and I probably would never use it. I've been experiencing tingling and dizzy spells since June, often while driving, but numerous tests and visits to various doctors have found nothing, leaving only anxiety or possibly some kind of chronic fatigue as the culprit. For a while I was driving to work with my dad in case a spell forced me to pull over, but I had gotten over it. The last few weeks I've experienced a relapse, and started taking him with me again. My main concern when I'm having one of these episodes, apart from blacking out, is making it to a parking lot with a payphone nearby. I've been carrying a LOT of quarters lately. A cell phone is an expensive luxury, and I don't believe in such wasteful indulgence. Still, given the problems I've been having my parents convinced me to let them give me this gift for two years, after which I would take over the contract. I'm still going to try to pay them something toward the bill though.

Driving to work the dizziness came over me but though my dad was with me I pressed on, since if it is stress-induced giving in can only cement in my subconscious the feeling that I need to do so. My dad's in his 70s now and has been living with clogged arteries in his heart since I was in college. He's been dizzy and out of breath a lot lately from his own health problems, so I need to minimize his stress as well and get over this thing. He never stops or slows down even when he should, which is somewhat inspirational. It makes me realize I can't give in when I'm not feeling well, but I also worry about him pushing himself. It doesn't help that he's been saying things like, “Yeah, I guess I'll be in the ground next year.” A retired automobile mechanic, he still does work not only on our cars, but those of his friends. Tomorrow he's planning to do some heavy labor on my old music teacher's car. Fortunately I'm using up a vacation day so I'll be on hand to help as best as I can.

When I arrived at work I found a bag of bagels torn open and lying on my graphic tablet. I figured it was from my friend Rey and headed down to the cafeteria for utensils and napkins. When I returned, I found Curt and Jerry waiting for me. They presented me with a package, within which was quite an impressive stack of comics. Some I had already, some I was missing from my collection, and many I'd never heard of, including something called Starriors that will almost certainly become a NOI article once I've read it. There was an issue of Marvel Age amid the back issues, and though I already had it in my collection, there was something I didn't know about it. Jerry had been a writer for Marvel, and one of his articles was in this particular issue. “J-No” still writes comics on a freelance basis in addition to working for our company, and promised to autograph the Marvel Age.

At lunch, six of us headed over to Tin Alley Grill where my friends treated me. They also had some choice words to say about my inability to flirt with a waitress, which I unfortunately cannot post for...reasons. After lunch, my supervisor stopped by and presented me with a DVD of Van Helsing, bound with the novelization. I was polite and thanked him enthusiastically despite what I'd heard about the film. If you cannot say something nice it's sometimes best to say nothing at all, though the fact that halfway through the DVD I've paused it to write this article should speak volumes. Yikes.

Work ran long since I'm taking a vacation day tomorrow and wanted to get everything done that needed to be done. The situation was exacerbated when a series of e-mails around 6PM triggered the realization that I'd inadvertently turned in the wrong book jacket to my production department. It also made me 20 minutes late for an appointment to have my body fat checked by the trainer down in the gym, who smiled just a bit too much when she informed me that 26% body fat was considered obese for someone my age. The cutoff point is 24%, so in typical MCF fashion I made the cut by 2%. The ride home was made harrowing not only by rain, but by an inexplicable 20 minute delay at a railroad crossing. Every time the Eastbound train would pass, a Westbound train would arrive. After deciding that perhaps the same train was just going back and forth to mess with us, we turned down a side road and took an alternate route. It was good to get home and enjoy a nice steak dinner, followed by a Canoli cake.

It's probably a gross instance of ”burying the lede” to mention this now, but the reason I had the kind of day I just described was because it's my 30th birthday...