ridehorsey

last night Gina and I did the ol switcho-chango, which means that instead of her sitting in front of the computer from the hours of 5:30 - 11 and me sitting in front of the television for those same hours (on different floors of the house), I sat in front of the computer. And watched a movie. Before The Devil Knows You're Dead.

Which I thought was supposed to be good. It did feature Marisa Tomei naked quite a bit, and that's ok, but other than that there's very much redeeming about the movie. I kept checking the time because I just wanted it over. And then it was. Thank goodness.

The whole spending time on different floors of the house thing is what makes the three people in the house thing work. I, in the livingroom, Gina in the computer/craft castle, and John (and his girlfriend) in his room. We interact as little as possible, not intentionally, but that's just how it works.

When I wasn't a worthless cripple I'd be spending the hours of 6-8 on a bicycle, but this year that's not happening. I intend to whine about it until I don't have to any more. I recently listened to a This American Life episode about manliness of something and they were saying, you know, that a real trait of manliness is never complaining or showing weakness, and I guess I can see that. So what's that make me. I complain about every single thing like I'm dying. I mean, I really play it up. Partly because I think it's funny, and partly because I feel like I wasted my 20's being unhealthy, and now that I'd like to be athletic or whatever, it seems like perhaps I wasted my window.

See? Complaining. Where's my skirt.