… in that I stopped writing my blog because I ran out of things to say, and because things were getting complicated. How so, you ask? (I’m assuming you asked that because I need someone to do so for this narrative to work.)

please

Well, for starters, I found out that the reason my legs were hurting so badly was because I developed shin splints in both legs. If you’ve never had shin splints, they hurt like a motherfucker, no matter what you’re doing. (Even if you’re sitting. For realz.) I kept training for the run – I tried to let them heal, but to be honest, I’m not sure they’ll ever completely go away. And even though I improved my time by 6 minutes in 4 months, I still failed the run. But given that part of the reason I couldn’t train as hard as I needed to was because my legs were all fucked up, Master Gee allowed me to proceed with the rest of my class with the caveat that I would have to redo – and pass – the run when my legs had healed. They haven’t healed yet, but I’m out of time now and need to get it done. Now I wish I hadn’t taken the time off to let things heal, since they didn’t heal anyway and now I’m back where I started, cardio-wise. (In that my cardio is terrible and I have the lung capacity of a shrimp. “Shrimp don’t have lungs!” the internet cries out to correct me. I KNOW, THAT’S THE JOKE.)

joke

I spend waaaaaaaay too much time thinking about what I suspect other people think about me. I mean, I don’t care, but if I did, it would bother me a lot and prevent me from being able to do things like a normal human. It took me 3 hours to work up the nerve to go outside to run today. I was desperately hoping that the cloudy weather would have kept people inside, but apparently nothing short of torrential rain will keeping people out of MY park.

territory

Anyway, so, at the end of the day, I got my black belt, but this was definitely not how I wanted it to happen. But we can’t all be so lucky to have completely healthy, functioning bodies all the time, right? I mean, the people that are naturally healthy and fit should be unbelievably grateful, but I find that more often than not, they just judge other people to be somehow “lesser” than they are, like they don’t understand that they just won some genetic lottery, they didn’t actually do anything to deserve their fitness level. I mean, they work to maintain it, obviously, but the rest of us have to work just as hard to reach a point of being average. There are exceptions, of course, one of whom is a close friend of mine, but by an large, people who are naturally fit and thin are also fucking dicks to the rest of us. Or maybe I just think that because I’m constantly suspicious that people think as poorly of me as I do myself. Maybe I’m the dick. This is confusing now.

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Anyway, in other better news, I GOT A NEW SNAKE. His name is Finn. The vet clinic named him, so we elongated it to Finneas von Serpentine. Or Finnegan O’Wrigglesnoot. I like both. He is a platinum ball python, and he’s a sweetie. He was rescued from an irresponsible breeder who left him in a tiny little Rubbermaid tub with a female snake for an undetermined amount of time. As in, the people who found him couldn’t tell how long he’d been in there, so I’m assuming it was pretty bad. Plus, you can’t house snakes together unless they’re from the same clutch, because THEY WILL TRY TO EAT EACH OTHER. Some people have snakes that can handle it, and they say it’s fine, but I don’t see why you’d take the risk. You can put them together for a while for breeding, but if you leave them for too long… Finn is lucky he didn’t get killed. Anyway, something went wrong while the snakes were breeding and when Finn was found, his man parts were all broken and now he can’t ever breed again. So, they had to make sure that whoever adopted him wanted him as a pet, and not for breeding. Luckily, I know for certain that I can’t be trusted to give away baby snakes, so he’s a gentleman of leisure now.

Finn 3Anyway, he’s a sweetie. He’s friendly, he’s very chill, and he periscopes, which makes me happy because Francis and Jezebelle don’t. (For non-snek people, that means he sticks his head up like this:)

Finn 4

So, that’s it. Running again. New snek. Binge-watching Prison Break. (Which is fantastic, by the way) and I had my first-ever root canal last week, which sucked a lot. The dentist isn’t my favourite person so far because in spite of telling everyone that I have severe sharp-implements-in-my-mouth-related anxiety, he was not particularly accommodating of my issue and felt the need to give me shit about not being “communicative” while he had his hands in my mouth. Soooo, prior to the next appointment, we’re going to have a little “talk” about a couple things, namely 1) how the fuck he wants me to communicate when he’s working on my teeth and I can’t move, 2) why he feels the need to give me shit about being panicky when I’ve already told him that I wanted to be completely knocked out for the procedure. Oh, and that the oral sedation doesn’t work, particularly when he turns it and the oxygen off 3/4 of the way through the procedure so I couldn’t breathe through my nose OR mouth, which, you know, isn’t a good thing to do to someone who is trying their best to stay calm. And by that, I mean that I’m going to ask for a different dentist, because I cried all the way home because I was so upset and I never want to go through that again.

help me

And with that, we seem to have gone full circle, and it’s time to call it a night. Later, kids.

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