Cabin Fever

25 Feb


I’m currently watching Super Troopers—a classic, by the way—for the second time in the past 12 hours. In the past five days I’ve watched Olympus Has FallenSkyfallMission Impossible 4Manhattan-figured I should add some actual cinema to my movie binge—Never Back Down, Fast and the Furious 2 and a handful of other awesomely awful films.

I’ve gotten thirty seconds of fresh air in the past five days.

I’ve spent about 36 of my past 48 hours sitting in the same recliner. It’s seat now permanently carries an imprint of my ass, which I’m pretty sure is actually starting to meld with the chair’s leather.

My armpits have rashes, the clearing out of my morning coffee is no longer a relaxing part of my day that I look forward to since I cannot bend my left knee, and taking a shower is now as exhausting as biking a mile.

Last Thursday I had knee surgery to repair my apparently slightly torn meniscus, an injury that I’m not really sure how I sustained. Now I’m going stir crazy; I believe cabin fever is what it’s called. I’m working on a bunch of stories, but some of the reporting has currently stalled and now, well, I. Am. Bored.

I have nothing really interesting or insightful to add—unless anyone wants to read a review of Gerard Butler ability to portray a secret service agent defending the White House against North Korea. What I do have is an extremely sweaty and sticky back.

I better be able to dunk when this is all done.


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