Not my heart, but my pinky. I thought that I had jammed it because I was holding a ball when a shot was near my head so I blocked it with the ball that I was holding. It really hurt, but I could bend both joints. I couldn’t play though and our team manager got pissed. It was Super Bowl Sunday and we didn’t have a full team. I was sorry that we were at a disadvantage, but couldn’t use my right hand well. We lost. She was pretty nasty to me. She’s a little weird anyway and sneers, but she was visibly mad about my hand.

The next day after my shower it was zombie colored. I knew that it was broken. I showed the climber and her commuting partner. They were in my car. I don’t have a good read on the climber anymore. She’s not cold, but definitely not effusive any longer. I don’t want details and didn’t give her or her commuting partner who I drove to work any information about my Poly-Cougar kissing episode at the bar on Friday. I’ll drive them next Friday and will have to see if they like riding with me when my son is in the car because I’ll have to give him a lift once a week when I drive. I dropped her off at her house and she said, “Bye.” I don’t know. I also don’t chase. I’ll just see what the next month or so involves.

Conversation was pretty dominated by her commuting partner on the way in and then she asked me a question about my son that was open-ended on the ride home. I have been encouraged by his openness and attitude lately so I told her and him about my hopefulness. She talks more in describing adventures in the car, and frankly lately. I don’t even know how mediation with her ex for the house has been going. I guess that I don’t feel close with her. I can be open, but she seems maybe a little guarded. I’m not going to give energy to thinking about why, and will drive them both next Friday if they want to save gas and be green.

I got a popsicle stick from work and waterproof tape and have my finger splinted. I have been toggling over with my ring finger to type, but shifting is very awkward and slow. It’s ok because the pinky is easiest. It’s just the shifting thing that is super slow. It could be much worse.

I probably won’t get to play in our last couple of dodgeball games. I’m only going to play kickball for this league. I don’t want to be around the team manager who is a varsity dodgeball player. I may go back to the other league anyway because I don’t have to play on a gay league. I had fun last summer. There was a woman who gave me wine and she was friends with a lesbian married couple on that league, so I can probably still meet woman in the other league.

I had so much fun in guitar class last night! The teacher is a nut and I’m honing my skills. I’m going to play a song at open mic at the bar. I would like to get the strumming pattern for “Little Bit of Love” down completely and do a sing-a-long. I’m going to practice all weekend. I have my grief group for the loss of my parents tonight, which always helps. My colleague who almost died is going too. Life is pretty good right now.

It’s snowy and pretty today. Since Saturday I’ve biked 24-miles, so with biking everyday Friday through Tuesday, I ought to get to at least 50. I won’t bike today, but maybe I can bike to work on Thursday. I can do that with a broken, splinted pinky!

Daily Grind

One would think since I had yesterday off that today would have been less tiring, but it wasn’t.  I at least had two cups before I left which always makes the ride in less like I am in a drunken stupor.  It should be noted that I don’t drink every night.  I’m just that addicted to caffeine, and have not been drunk in the morning since 1997 when I was watching the brown and white tile spin in my Victorian Horror and Fantasy class. A good class, that.  I was talking with my work wife about “She” today, which was an odd book that we read in that summer course.  I told her that now I really understand, “She-who-must-be-obeyed.”  I tend to date her.  At least twice.

Anyway there was a scant amount of coffee left in the pot prior to my 6:30 am departure, and my regular thermos is obscene, so I couldn’t transfer it there.  I filled up my ceramic mug that I had today–one of my favorites, my Virgo mug, circa 1995–and then put the rest in my thermos from elementary school.  I have since lost the metal box, but love this thermos; although, it holds little coffee, but made me happy.

I just wish that I hadn’t gotten my “Masters of the Universe” one stolen. That one was awesome–I miss Skeletor, with the exception of his awful voice.

I always drink coffee out of ceramic mugs.  I am at best, persnickety, and at worse, uptight in bizarre ways.  Thing is that I don’t really give a shit.  My gf calls me neurotic and I don’t care about that either.  Currently, I’m drinking one of the best seasonals that one of my favorite microbreweries makes right now, but the whole previous theme of disgust brings me to their main spring seasonal, which leaves a film on the roof on one’s mouth that is like drinking coffee out of styrofoam.  I loathe it.

I did like my coffee today.  I did not like my 10.5 hour work day.  I will not like my 8.5 one tomorrow either, but the good thing is that my son’s Godfather is going to teach me gear 101 tomorrow after work (Which brings me back to this microbrew that is BOMB).  That way, I won’t be humiliated on the bike on Thursday and Friday with my gf.  Why I am with a triathlete again?  Oh, wait, that’s right.