Spacetacular

And so, I’ve fallen off the planet once again.

It’s not exactly like nothing has been going on, It’s just that my unparalleled boringness was eclipsed by my aggressive laziness. My vacation in Hawaii—which I returned from a month ago—still remains woefully unchronicled. Instead, my precious hours have been consumed by gambling and collecting bellybutton lint. Except for a few minor items . . .

No Results Ever!

The EP looked through all the event monitor charts I’ve transmitted so far, and didn’t see anything particularly unusual. But he was looking for fast palpitations—basically tachycardia—where I flag anything that “feels weird.” If he’s not alarmed, I can only assume everything is “normal for me,” and move on, right?

Hearticulture

So today at 8:30am, I had an MRI. It wasn’t as bad as [intlink id="masochistic-resonance-imaging"]last time[/intlink], but it sure seemed louder somehow. The machine was much more recent–sporting a fancy LCD embedded into its doughnut badness–yet in the advancements it contained, apparently none of the engineers considered integrating sound dampening to avoid permanently deafening patents enclosed entirely within its grasping confines after repeated exposure to proximal squeals resembling a drunken hobo occasionally plucking the same frayed string on a “sweet” electric guitar he found jacked into a defective amp incapable of any setting below 100 decibels.