mistermann (mistermann) wrote,
mistermann
mistermann

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The body cannot live without the mind...

So i bought myself a copy of Beneath The Wheel by Hermann Hesse today on the street because i loved Siddhartha in high school and i read Steppenwolff a few months back. And about 50 pages into it, i realized i had read his book Magister Ludi this year.

And had completely forgotten it. It took me a few minutes to even remember the name of the book and determine whether it was by Hesse. (Actually, the "By The Author" section at the back of Beneath The Wheel took care of both.)

My memory used to be like a map: after unfolding it, it just took a few seconds to find what i was looking for. Now it's like a murky fog. i'm not happy about this.

Then there's the pleasant experience of sitting in a cafee, twitching with pain from my lower back. Despite 2+ weeks in the gym, trying specifically to strengthen it up, it's as bad as it's been in years.

Granted, i spent 24 of 30 hours asleep between Saturday morning to Sunday morning due to some nasty-ass, non-alcohol related, feel-worse-after-you-throw-up-twice sickness and that will always fuck up my been-giving-me-trouble-since-i-was-a-teenager back. Hopefully the short little stint on the bike at the gym tonight will loosen it up.

Because of that little bug, my great plan to go see Lewis Black got cancelled. Sorry about that everyone. Although it seems that everyone appreciated the monetary savings from the cancellation. (i would argue that italian dinner and coffee was only slightly cheaper and without the entertainment, but i come from a background of opportunity costs and looking at things on the margins, so what do i know?)

Highlight of the weekend: Getting Chris and Karla to use the bus, not once, but twice Friday night. Ya can't complain when it's 20 degrees, eh?

Low point of the weekend: Swallowing my pride and buying one of those monstrous computer books from Barnes and Nobles. i always feel like such a fucking tard taking them up to the counter. A very cute, short haired, lit-chick friend of mine who worked at B&N in boston told me how much they despised those books and i don't blame them. But it's my career and it's not like i enjoy them. So fuck it.
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