Every week there are a number of new reasons I'm convinced I'm losing my mind. During stressful times of the semester, such as before Spring Break, I find myself fast approaching the edge of sanity.
Today I missed the bus by 1.5 minutes. I spent the next 30 minutes walking the sidewalks in a definite figure-8 pattern, at times talking out loud to myself.
As if that weren't enough...
My biceps have been killing me for 24 hours. I have spent a great deal of time scraping the corners of my mind to find a reason for this (wonderful, yet painful) anomoly. Ever since I gave up weight-lifting after my freshman year of college, I haven't felt this soreness. Did I do Tae-Bo? no. Did I spend too much time holding my phone to my ear? no, and that certainly wouldn't account for the equal pain in each arm as I tend to favor the left ear and therefore left arm for phone conversations.
Then it came to me when I saw my professor tonight...before class last night, I carried a really heavy box full of manila file folders from my car in the parking lot behind the library to his office (he being said professor). And that must be how weak I am. I was completely embarrassed and probably blushed at the mere thought of being that weak when I realized that it was. Oh me. To be strong again!
I got a message on my phone when I came home tonight that went something like this:
[Southern Indiana-hick accent] "Yeah, hello, Paul. I just got your message and am returning your call here about 6 o'clock. Talk to you later, Buddy.]
Not only was it a wrong number, it was to Paul folks - could it have been any more perfect?!
I rest my case for the night, for the week, and for the first half of the semester.
2 comments:
did i tell you about the message i got from some guy looking for the truck driver with $80million?
that's a better story, Chalupa. I think you are the man of a million great stories.
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