Another year goes by and I have neglected my blog once again. It’s been a combination of me not having two brain cells to rub together, being really busy, being sick all the damn time, and a big ol’ dollop of apathy.
Hey, Skyrim! I’m almost level 40, a wood elf, werewolf, queen of two-handed weapons, smasher of faces, Harbinger of the Companions, up-and-coming member of the Thieves Guild, sometime student of the College of Winterhold, Thane of two (three?) holds, and bride of Farkas. Main storyline? What main storyline? I’m already dreaming up my next character. I could play this game for YEARS. I just hope that 1.4 patch fixes the damn lag on the PS3.
BRB, gotta ogle pics of Farkas.
I’ve been trying to stick with a weightlifting plan but I’ve gotten derailed a few times by illness and injury. My hip decided it wasn’t going to work properly for a couple of days, which was both painful and mysterious, as I hadn’t done anything that could have aggravated it. Then I got sick two days last week. Then I got sick again yesterday. I think yesterday was due to something I ate. I spend the first half of my day in the bathroom and passed out on the couch sweating and shivering the whole time. I still have some of that kickass cancer patient anti-nausea medication left and that came in real handy. I was finally able to stop purging and get some rest after that. I’m debating whether or not to try going to the gym today. I’ll probably just do a mini session.
I got a call from Memorial Blood Centers last week telling me I’m a good candidate for platelet donation, so I have that to look forward to. When was the last time you gave blood? DO IT.
So we got this dog, Shorty (I wish we could change his name), on Christmas Eve. He’s a six-year-old puggle. Now that we’ve had some time to get acquainted with him I’m convinced his previous owners were completely insane to give him up. He’s a sweet little lump of a dog who likes to cuddle. He’s gentle with Lily and is finally getting into a rhythm with Bindi. He’s only half curious about the cat and pretty much just ignores Sara now that he knows that even looking at her will be met with a hiss and a swat from that grumpy old beast. Shorty likes to sleep under the covers and be the little spoon with me until the bed warms up. He also likes to tear around the yard about once a day or go for short walks before returning to the couch.
Blah, writing. I don’t know why I’ve had such a hard time lately.