So I seem to be alive again. At any rate, I am vertical and mobile, which is close enough.
And I return to learn that I am much more interesting to googlers than I have been in the past. Searchers have come looking for def poetry and cropdusting. I’m much more comfortable with this than with all the naked women searches of yore.
Also, someone from MIT accessed Tehachapiltdownman, which suggests I am smart. Take that, stupid people!
Today was the first day in many that I did not wake with bread pudding to be hocked from my sinuses which is wonderful. Now if my balloonheadedness will just pass I will be as healthy as … usual.
Which is not necessarily as healthy as people get. But it’s healthy enough for me.
For I am Theric, He of Mediocre Health.
A Day in the Life of Theric, He of Mediocre Health
Theric woke up. He was still tired.
He walked to the bathroom or the kitchen or wherever, running into immobile things like walls and moderately mobile things like pingpong balls as he went.
He took an overlong shower that dried his hair and skin and left the bathroom a sweaty sauna as he tried to dress.
Or: He ate something with out a full complement of vitamins and minerals or even calories.
Then Theric left for work, driving too fast and with too few of his faculties up to their alleged diurnal speed.
Theric arrived at work, where he carried, lopsided, loads of books and papers and cds and other exciting whatnot, his spine curving as he stumbled from room to room.
(And so on with equal excitement.)
Anyway, what a pleasure to be back.
(this is me, dancing)