Wednesday, July 25, 2007
I just read another bike racer was hauled away by the gendarme in France. I think I'm going to pack up my Schwinn and head over there. At this rate, I might have a chance of winning. Notice that I didn't print the name of the race. I don't want someone to google it and get tipped off to my intentions.
Today I got the results of all my medical stuff from the last few weeks. All systems go. My bloodwork is much better than I deserve, given my eating habits. Dr. Ruth said cardiologists strive for those kind of numbers for their patients and usually can't get them without medicine. I attribute my success to bacon, butter, and cream.
Work is just as excruciating as I remember it. It seems like every year it takes me less and less time to forget everything and more and more time to relearn it. It was an awful cosmic accident that I wasn't born rich because I'd make a good lazy person, or what Bill Bryson calls a "waddlesome sloth".