Threats of dying later rather then sooner

I have had an interesting day.

Or frustrating.

A 24 hour period of flip flopping emotion. A day filled with activities that either caused me emotional elation, physical harm, or absolute mental anguish.

Last night I tried to reformat a removable hard drive and wiped my lap tops ability to boot up. I went to sleep wishing I had prepared a recovery disk and wondered how the fuck I would fix it.

I have discovered working on things like a busted computer while tired and angry and frustrated is a good way to break things even more. So I down loaded the recovery information from my wife's 64 bit system crossed my fingers and checked my hard drive for issues then crashed for the night myself.

My plans for the morning had already been made way before the malfunctioning computer. I was going to wake up and head to the V.A. for a fasting lipid's test.

Oh joy.

Upon opening my eyes I stumbled into the living room thankful my feet have stopped hurting but wishing all the same I could start running again.

Soon I keep telling myself, soon.

I glanced at the screen to my comp. The words in yellow lines of dialouge said “passed,” which told me all three tests I had run had been successful and that my computer should start with no problems.

So I restarted it.

“Haha,” it told me doing exactly what it did last night, “no boot record found hit enter.”

I'll hit enter, I thought as I hit enter over and over again wanting to see pieces of laptop flying off the machine in all directions.

The animated meme with the stick figure getting mad at his comp and pounding his extremities against it until he has lost all his fingers both arms and every tooth from his head, enters my head as well.

Love that flash anime.

I stopped before it was too late.

For the computer and for myself.

I was irritated and wanted to smoke a cig and eat a very fatty breakfast with a big steaming cup of coffee, but instead I brushed up teeth and slipped jeans over my boxers and kissed the wife goodbye and went to give my blood to the government.

As I neared the door she yelled after me, “fix your hair at least!”

I quickly glance in the mirror and ran my fingers through my tangled locks, satisfied it was at least not standing up in tufts and let the door slam behind me.

I got a seat on the R, one of those awkward seats stuck facing into the train but right next the seat facing towards the back of the train. A man was taking up both of those seats slouching forward. On the way to Manhattan his knees kept touching my leg. I could see him out of the corner of my eye and wondered if he was doing it on purpose. Fuck him, I thought and banged my knee into his thigh. He sat up.

I was happy for a minute.

I read till Union

Once there I got off and headed to the L to take me to 1st Avenue. The L is down a few sets of stairs and if wanting to go down when a train has just arrived it is virtuely impossible without standing ones ground and barreling forward.

Its either easy to be rude here or unavoidable its hard to tell which.

This morning no train arrived while walking down the stairs, but one did arrive as I decided I wanted to be further down the platform.

It was the West bound train pulling in. I hurried to pass the stairs and was pinched against the wall when I was polite enough to allow a guy to walk through a head of me not realizing behind him was a stream of people who had witnessed my momentary bit of politeness and were swarming in to take advantage. I pushed through feeling my knee strike the soft flesh of some woman’s stomach. Through the podcast blaring in my ears I hear an angry mutter behind me. I ignore it. Thats why I wear ear-buds, they make it easy to ignore everything whether they are actually producing sound or not.

The east bound train pulls up and the rest of the trip to the V.A. happens.

I wait an hour to give them my sample and then make my way home.

I am in Brooklyn when I am pulled from my book by the angry utterance, “I will kill you if you sneak up on me!”

I look immediately to my left and see a young lady just walking onto the train from the Court street station pushing a baby carriage. Right in front of her is a hunched over dark blur of frayed clothing pushing a little shopping cart.

I look again at the young woman and she doesn’t move she stays planted in place, but the dark blur moves away from us to stand on the opposite end of the car.

Again I wonder if people actually live on the trains of New York, never leaving, picking up lost articles of clothing and things found on the ground and avoiding exits.

I like the idea of a community of people living with in the tunnels.

On the trains.

Roasting rats at night.

I get off at Union and walk home.

Once in the door I find out the 64 bit operating system will not work to restore my 32 bit lap top so I seek other alternatives.

I download a windows 7 recovery disk off the internet and plug the removable memory into my computer after I unzip it.

Now as I have watched the little blue bar move acorss my screen for the last hour I get a call.

My primary care doc tells me that my 3% chance of developing heart disease in the next 50 years has been reduced to 1.5%

yay.