It feels like it's been longer than it has since I've written here. The last week or so has just zoomed by in a great big blur. When last I wrote, I was ignoring my gym limitations in regards to being sick. That was about a week and a half ago. Right now, I'm mostly over being sick. I still have a little bit of a wheeze and cough, but I feel like a completely new person now. I know this stupid wheeze isn't going away quick enough for me and I've accepted that. I figure a few more days and I'll be 100% again.
In other health related news, I fucked up my shoulder somehow. I have a thought as to how, but I'm not sure. About a week ago, last Saturday I believe, I was in the kitchen when I noticed my right shoulder was killing me for no apparent reason. I didn't do anything to it that I'm aware of, but it started killing me. I couldn't move my arm around like normal without shooting pain. What I think happened was my shoulder shifted on me again. I'm pretty sure I did something to it many years ago when I was fat that fucked it up in the first place. I've had issues with it since then, but never like I've had since losing weight. I'm pretty sure whatever I did to my shoulder wasn't too bad because I had all this body fat holding everything in place. As I lost weight, the fat started going away and my shoulder started shifting. I went to physical therapy for it and that amounted to nothing but wasted time. Eventually it started feeling better, but I think my shoulder reshifted itself again. I know I've been building muscle at the gym, but I've brought my weight down again which means as I've been building muscle, I've been losing more fat and I'm guessing that came from around that area. It's feeling somewhat better already, but not good enough. I'm hoping it heals itself and I can avoid a pointless doctor's visit again.
With the shoulder messed up, it's made this weekend incredibly annoying. This is the weekend Ken and I have decided to tackle the master bedroom. All the rest of the house (well, except for Ken's office) has been addressed with new paint and decor, but not the master. It's the least public room in our house, so it's been easy enough to put off. We've been in the house almost a year (in fact, I think it was this weekend last year that we found the house) and it's time. Saturday we started. The room was emptied out of most everything. Just the chair and the bed remain. The crown molding came down. The previous homeowners installed it half-assed. It was upside down and they didn't care that the end of one piece didn't meet up with the end of the piece next to it. Just horrible. That came down and the nail holes were spackled and sanded. Then we cut in the paint along the ceiling edge and the walls. Cutting in sucks balls. This morning the first coat went on the ceiling. I tried, but my shoulder doesn't like when I paint above my head. That left Ken to do the whole ceiling. Then the first coat went on the walls. I love how it looks so far. It's a darkish brown and it's lovely. By this point it was time for lunch and we went out to Red Robin. I had a miserable meal there and don't recommend going to anyone. How hard is it to make a burger. Neither their first attempt nor their second attempt succeeded. When we got home, coat number two went on the ceiling and we cut in again with the wall paint. We didn't do such a good job the first time around. We intended on doing the second wall coat, but it got too dark too soon and that's now on tomorrow's agenda.
I'm really not very good at home improvement projects. You would think otherwise considering that every weekend growing up I was my father's indentured servant for all things home improvement. I hated every minute of it and discovered the only thing I was good at was getting yelled at. To this day I have flashbacks to all that crap. Hate it. And I never improved. Every time Ken tried giving me "advice" this weekend, I kept reminding him he gets what he paid for and I haven't seen a cent. He's so much better at this stuff than I am, but he's limited in what he can do because he's so out of shape. Hopefully we can finish this project up tomorrow. I miss my bed. We've been sleeping in the guest rooms (I'm too used to a king sized bed that I'm not sharing a puny little queen with him.) until it's done.
One of our two cats, Ollie, has been acting oddly (also one of his nicknames) since the remodel has started. I know I'm putting human traits on him, but he's very insecure. Anytime something is not the way it should be, he seems very lost. And he's been extra lost during this. When we're not in the bedroom, he's been extra clingy. When we've been doing the work, he's been curled up, almost fetal, on a towel in the bedroom, refusing to move. It's really odd. Ever since moving here, he's been like this. The move itself was incredibly traumatic for him. Lucy, who I would have expected to be traumatized, has flourished. Go figure. Last night when I climbed into bed, I got the impression from Ollie that if he could climb up my ass and nestle in there, he would have.
The week I was sick, I was only able to get to the gym twice and neither time was a good idea. I tried to make up for it this week that just concluded. I went five times. If we finished up work early enough last night, I would have gone then, too, but the gym closes at 7 on weekends. Today I pushed myself extra hard because I was nearing my next goal and I wanted to squash it this weekend. I broke the 500 mile mark and I'm so pleased with myself. I'm closing in on the half way point and it's making me giddy. I'm going to try to get back into my normal gym days this week, but I'm going tomorrow, a normal off day. The reason is the sheer volume of calories I took in today. I had a sundae tonight to make the fattest person feel queasy. Chocolate pudding, chocolate/peanut butter ice cream, whipped topping and banana bread, which I made fresh this afternoon before the bananas I had over ripened. I almost added peanut butter chips, but I thought that would have been overkill.
I'm kind of excited, in a geeky kind of way. Over the last couple of years, Albany has seen the return of the Comic Convention and each time it comes around, it seems to grow a little more and a little more. Plus, the New York City Comic Con has flourished and is now a must-do event. That being said, something I've always been jealous of are people who have sketchbooks full of sketches from comics pros. The way to fill these books is by attending shows. I've decided that since I now have access to semi-regular shows, I want to start my own book. I went out and bought a blank book this week and hope to get the ball rolling next month at the next Albany Con. I've always loved looking at the books friends and acquaintances have and am anxious to get mine going. I thought at first I'd just start buying sketches and framing them, but I'm running out of wall space in my comics cave. The book is the best alternative to this.
I feel like I've got other stuff to write about, but I'm drawing a blank, which is probably a good thing. I really need to think about winding today down. I've been up since 6 and it's been a long, long Sunday. And I feel good about getting caught up with my comings and goings.