more whining

My back problem has really been flaring up lately. I'm trying to decide what to do about it, but that kind of depends on what the reason is. My main theories are either the new chair I just got at work (which would suck because the whole reason I switched chairs was the old one made my back hurt!) or something at the gym. I've been trying a few new machines at the gym, and adding more weight on the machines I always do, so I guess it could be that. I also tried the stationary bike at level 3 instead of 2 the last couple times I went (makes the pedals harder to push) and that got me REALLY sweaty, so that could be it.

Melissa blamed leaning over the roulette table for her back pain the other day, but that was a few days ago now and I've taken a few hot showers, so you wouldn't think that would still be having such a major effect. This morning, just getting into my car was torture. I had to lean the seat back to try to straighten out my spine, and I don't like driving that way.

Sitting in my chair at work isn't causing a ton of agony right now, so I'll tentatively cross off that theory. Maybe see if any machine at the gym feels particularly painful tonight. And maybe it's time to call the Muscular Therapy Institute and see if I can get a massage in before I leave for the choir tour in ... ack! ten days!

In other news, I brought some of my leftover chocolate from the Chocolate Fest. I'll either sit here eating it all day, or try to inflict some of it on coworkers. I realized that if I leave it in the fridge at home it'll never get eaten, 'cause I'm never home and stuff. And that would be tragic. So now I'm eating a little pretzel, dipped in chocolate and then rolled in crushed Heath bars. Yum.

(no subject)

Just spoke to Julie, who's laid up ("fucked up" as she put it) at home with a broken foot after her car accident last week. The jury's still out on her car, which the repair shop says is totaled but the insurance company says is fixable. At least it turns out she doesn't need surgery on the foot.

Man, having a bad foot is really tough. Simple things like walking across the hall to get something from the other room become half-hour ordeals. She can't do laundry, walk the dog, get her snailmail. She has friends and neighbors to help, but they can't be around 24-7, and there are some things you can't ask a person to do unless they're a REALLY good friend. I feel bad that I can't do anything. I told her again that I'd come down and help if she wanted, although really we both know it would be impractical.

Anyway, here's hoping she gets better soon. At least she still has her sense of humor.

loneliness

I'm listening to the new (used) Simon & Garfunkel "Collected Works" cd set that I just got on ebay. (I had all their stuff on cassette, but I lost the tape that had most of my fave songs, so I went out and bought the cd.)

Along comes the song, "A Most Peculiar Man." It's a melancholy song and it made me start thinking about being lonely. In the song, the guy kills himself because he has no life and no friends ... and everyone goes, "oh that's too bad, but he was pretty weird, wasn't he?" The implication, although not explicitly stated in the song, is that he lay there dead in his apartment for a while before anyone noticed.

In my more pessimistic moments I can see my death happening that way. Not that I would kill myself, but that, if by accident my apartment flooded with carbon monoxide or something, it could be a while before anyone noticed, and a lot of people would sort of shrug and go, like in the song, "what a shame that she's dead, but, wasn't she a most peculiar woman?"

I know this isn't really true. Plenty of people would notice if I randomly didn't show up to work/social events/chorus rehearsals. And plenty of people would be upset. And I'm not as friendless and alone in the world as the peculiar man in the song, who "wasn't friendly and he didn't care." But, I do have times when I feel alone. Mostly, in the lack-of-nookie sense. I have moments, like today, when I really think, "god, I *need* a lover." And it's not just about sex (although of course it's about sex). It's about cuddling and holding hands and doing regular stuff together. Sure, I do stuff with friends, but you know, Not The Same.

Arrghh, I sound so whiny. I hate it when I sound like this. And most of the time I'm okay with being single. But dammit, there are days.

Note to self: buy carbon-monoxide detector for apartment.