2005-10-21 - 11:11 a.m.

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I think I may have brain damage. It could be the booze, it could be old age. It�s something. I know I was supposed to write about something, but what?

So, I�m still in pain. Back to the pool yesterday and I upped my distance a little bit. I thought I was going to die when I got home. It�s not like I�m doing much, it�s more the very act of doing that has me all messed. My arms seem to have enjoyed their 13 year sabbatical. I didn�t know one�s triceps could hurt.

Pimp (he of the evil template) summed it up well in a comment to my last entry when he said �Getting old fucking sucks. It never used to be this tiring to simply get through a day.�

Amen. I didn�t understand what that meant until recently.

Getting old is not fun and this week has shown me why. I know I�m not old, but I guess I�m heading down that road. I hate to think that people see me as an adult. I mean, just thinking that little kids will look at me and see a grown up has me upset. I don�t want to grow up. I�m more than willing to take on the responsibility and stuff, but I don�t want to be an adult. I don�t think as myself as one. Is that OK?

The whole exercise thing really has me thinking about days or yore. I guess my brain had been primed because of the flood. See, my old varsity jacket has been looking at me for 2 weeks now. It wasn�t in a box before the flood; it was just sitting on top of all the boxes. So, it landed on the fireplace in the basement. I keep seeing it and having moments of ponderment (look! A new word!) about high school. Throw in the swimming; the pain, the smell, the taste of the water, and I�m in a full-on flashback to the early 90�s. I�m not enjoying thinking back that far. It seems like a really long time ago. Has it been 13 years since I finished school? Shit�it has. I emailed my old coaches the other day (having had zero contact with them since graduation) to let them know that I hate swimming and it hit me; I�ve known them for nearly 20 years now. That�s 2/3 of my life. I shudder at the thought.

I�m not depressed about this; it�s just all hitting me at once. It�s funny. I get into the water and it comes at me like a flood (pardon the pun). People, places, names�all come pouring back. It�s a funny connection I guess. If I weren�t suffering so much while I was doing it, I could only imagine what would be going on in my head. But, I can see all these little things I did back in the day. So much of my schooling was spent in the water that I guess it�s been some sort of trigger.

(I know this is just a rambling mess, but that�s what�s going through my head these days. I won�t be offended it you bailed out now or before this point)

I heard back from one of my coaches and I owe him a reply. The swim team has changed a lot since my days. We used to call ourselves the best high school swim team in the state. We were. What do I mean? Well, normally at the high school level, teams are made up of a bunch of kids who do NOT train at the school. They all swim for their respective clubs or Y�s or something. We were fully based at the school. None of us swam year-round. So, when we�d be nearly winning the county meet and finishing in the top 3 in the Prep State meet, we were proud. Now they recruit and don�t have much of a high school team. It kinda makes me sad. They started doing this 2 years after I graduated. Our group was the last of the non-recruited swimmers. I�m a little sad about the changes. I liked what we were doing. Plus, I need to thank the coach. When I came out of high school, I was so warped by my environment that I needed to do a lot of growing up. I met JewelrySlut right in time. She did 99% of the work in grounding. I think my coach planted the seed for the other 1%. I didn�t like him at the time because of it. I can appreciate it now.

Jesus�this entry is going nowhere and it�s taking a while to get there.

No pool today. I�m cutting out of work at noon to paint. We didn�t do any painting last night. We were both wiped out and just wanted to sit around, watch TV and drink. Which we did.

Then, it�s off to the airport to pick up Mommy Dearest.

Ugh. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

PS: I need addresses if any of you ingrates want 80�s CDs.

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