Somehow it seems like it should be later in the week. Maybe it’s all the drugs. I’m feeling much better today, but it was one of those days where you’re supposed to go as hard as you can for 15 seconds, rest for 15 seconds, and then go again. I thought I was going to pass out at one point which would have been a bit embarrassing because I know THMFIC would still make me mop the floor. The brains behind the gym is back from her trip to SoCal, though, and so I’m guessing his days of wandering aimlessly around his house poking at things trying to figure out how they work without reading any manuals is over.

There has to be something interesting that I can write about that won’t get me in trouble, but I can’t think of what it could be. I read today about how some PR dude got in trouble for twittering that he hated Memphis before giving a presentation to FedEx, who are based in Memphis. I mean, holy hell, can’t the guy have an opinion? Don’t the people at FedEx have a frigging sense of humor? I really don’t want to live in the south, either. In fact, I’m trying hard to avoid ever going to Texas in my life. OK, so not really trying HARD, but I’m telling myself that I’m going to use my sheer force of will to keep me out of that state and some of the adjoining states like Oklahoma or Arkansas. Then again, I had to drive through parts of Kentucky a couple years ago and I even went to a Microsoft conference in San Diego. (I was too conscientious to skip out, so it could have been in Peoria for all the sightseeing I didn’t do in San Diego.) Texas is probably not all that bad, comparatively, plus they have all that barbecue.

What am I saying? I’m avoiding Texas. Yes. And anything south of, say, San Diego. I watched those shows on parasites on the Discovery Channel back when it was the airplanes and tropical diseases channel and not the Mythbuster/blow-stuff-up channel like it is now. Guinea worms! Malaria! Dengue fever! It all comes when you get south of the border. And by “the border” I think I mean the city limits of Santa Barbara. That’ll even keep me out of LA, another place where you could catch me twittering about how I’d hate to live there. You can even tell my boss. He has a sense of humor.

I’d make a graph as to how hot a woman would have to be to get me to live in the South (again) or Los Angeles, but I’m not sure of the units of woman heat. It’s probably something metric and just plain confusing like Kelvin. I mean, Kelvin doesn’t even line up right with Celsius. Who was the marketing genius who came up with that? Dry ice, -77°C. What was I talking about again?