Shhh. It’s not a resolution. I swear.

Just because this is my second post in two days, and the first one just so happened to coincide on the first day of the year doesn’t mean that I’ve made a New Year’s resolution to post here every day. I haven’t. Indeed, I didn’t even realize, when I posted yesterday, that it was the first of the year. I just posted on a whim because I had more than five words strung together that I thought were perhaps 2% worthy of perhaps one person in the world seeing, so I put them here for posterity. Whatever that means.

Today was the first time I left the apartment since last Wednesday late afternoon/early evening, except for a jaunt on Saturday morning to Whole Foods via Lyft and home via a regular ol’ cab. I was suffering a bit of cabin fever, or studio apartment fever, having cooped myself up here after suffering a bizarre episode upon my arrival home from the aforesaid late afternoon/early evening of Wednesday past (rhetorical question: Can I sound more pretentious?). Because I’m incredibly vain, I wore boots that were ill-equipped to handle the tundra that New York has been for the past ten days or so, and fear my feet suffered at the hands of the nasty freeze and thus the rest of my body, attached as it is to my feet (go figure!), was ill-affected as well, resulting in me seriously thinking I was on the verge of a stroke, which prompted me to speak aloud, loudly, to the otherwise quiet room, knowing that if indeed I were suffering a stroke, I wouldn’t be able to do so.

I felt as if I were outside myself, beyond myself, and trapped within myself all at the same time, and must confess to a fair amount of what I’ll just call quiet panic at the prospect of not being able to type (my left index finger was not fully cooperating) or walk properly (my big toes were being big jerks and felt deflated and hot and as if they had lost all tone) and feared I would have to get myself to an Urgent Care facility but didn’t want to jump the gun.

I was afraid to go to sleep, fearing that perhaps what I had suffered would do me in if I were to surrender to slumber. Alas, I did fall asleep. And apparently woke up the next day. And have succeeded in every day since then.

I left the house today, without event, and with much quiet silent celebration inside my head, on my predawn walk to the gym, where I not only did “the usual” weights but did so with rather good strength and proper form and ran on the treadmill without event for 52 minutes while listening to, among others, The Partridge Family.

So 2018 is off to a brilliant start. And anyone reading this deserves a medal for not suffering a stroke out of sheer boredom.

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