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I am...a New Yorker
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Wednesday, July 25, 2001
A Body, Divided
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Seeng...

All knds of naked women n the lockerroom. I fnally had my tour of the buildng, but somehow I didn't expect a bunch of nude women, though most of the tour was of the fitness facility. It's really weird and out of context.



Hearng...

Lots of German tourists, as ever.



Feelng...

A migrane, even though I ate breakfast and drank plenty of water today.

I am...not sure my body and I are playng for the same team. It's not just this recent, nasty habit of wakng up at 5 when I don't need to get up until 6:30. I'm suspcious of its motives because we've a long history of miscommunication and, perhaps, war.



I won't even get to this hair that I can do nothng with, not even keep clean. I feel very silly not yet knowng how to care for my own hair. I figure one fat entry a week is plenty, so let's move along to motor functions, shall we?



One reason I'm so dubious about the conviction of exercise fiends is that every time I try to exercise or, for that matter, move at all, I seem at a high risk for njury. Last year, as I walked casually across the office, I aggravated a set of old knee njuries. Walkng. Not runnng, skippng, jumpng or dancng, mnd you.



Actually, it gets worse than that. About two years ago I started havng chest pans and shortness of breath. You'd be amazed what great, speedy service you get at the doctor's office when you appear to be havng a heart attack. After rulng out weird tick-borne diseases snce I'd not been upstate or huntng n Pennsylvannia, the doctor miraculously figured out that I'd managed to bruise my sternum, the bone n the chest to which the ribs are fused.



I had forgotten, until that moment, that I'd awakened twice that week with my fists n my chest, sleepng on my stomach so my weight pushed my chest onto my fists as hard as possible.



There was no treatment, really, just to rest and take it easy. I didnt have much choice. I couldn't take even a moderately deep breath because it was excruciatng to let my lungs expand. I lay around as much as possible until my sternum healed, keepng my arms as far from the rest of my body as possible.



I'd have to say the sternum and my right knee (actually, the whole leg, as I njured the ankle playng baseball n high school) are the worst cases. In a year's time I bent my right knee forward, to the side and, just as the second njury was healng and I could get around town n more than a pitiful hobble, I fell smack dab on the knee n the ran.



Granted, these njuries were temporary and non-life-threatenng, so I am thankful for my health and general well-beng. However, with the possible exception of catchng the flu from readng The Stand, I fnd it's generally safer to let my mnd have most of the adventures.


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