Hey Nostradamus, thanks a lot

I apologize for not updating in such a long time. Actually, that's a lie, as I'm not sorry at all. In fact, I've been asleep for most of the last week. When I wasn't asleep, I was at assorted doctors and specialists, who proceeded to poke and prod me to determine what damage the last year has caused.

As it turned out, I'm still in relatively good health, although I'm still getting used to seeing myself in the mirror without huge dark circles under my eyes. Doc said my blood pressure is still normal, and whatever weight I've gained in my year away isn't so much that I should be overly concerned -- provided I get to exercising.

The novelty of having me back home has already worn off, and in my boredom, I've spent money I should be saving on books. Lots of books. First on the list was Doug Coupland's Hey, Nostradamus!, followed by a copy of Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse 5. On bringing these books home, I elicited a strange look from my mom. Picking up Slaughterhouse 5, she shot me a weird expression and asked if I'd ever read it before. I haven't, hence why I bought it, but she was under the impression that we would've read it in our time at school.

I had to bite my tongue to remind her that school is where they sent us to read drivel posing as literature, and besides, I've been in a stasis lock for the last year. A lot of stuff that I would otherwise be aware of has passed under my radar. As such: funny story. My doctor, as he's got me hooked up to several apparati, begins to berate me for not knowing several blues personalities.

No, I don't know the king of blues. I'm vaguely aware of Eric Clapton. What's that? Doctor, I'm feeling a little light headed, could you ease the pressure on my artery? Doctor?

Fun times. So in essence, the last week or so has been a marathon of sleep, doctors, books, and strangely enough, new clothes, as much of what I took to Drayton has fallen to tatters thanks to the abuse I put them through.

Looking at the clothes, I can only imagine that I must've looked about as beaten up when I got home. Let's hope I'm not destined for the same garbage bin.