I may be getting too old for this shit.
My sense of relative immortality is slowly being whittled away. I went to Knott's Berry Farm with The Nephew and some LA friends of the show yesterday and learned that certain bad-ass roller-coasters (or as close as one one gets at Knott's) can come close to inducing brown-outs. Fortunately the Silver Bullet ended when it did or I might have actually blacked out. In my defense, that last spin is fairly wicked. As it was my left eye kept squinting shut from the force. A pressure suit may be required the next time I go to Magic Mountain. While on the Boomerang -- a ride said Nephew smartly avoided -- there was a pause between the forward and reverse action and I informed my comrades, "Guys... I may be getting too old for this shit."
Over the last few weeks I've been steadily feeling the encroachment of what is likely carpal tunnel syndrome. Literally on my way to Potrero I noticed a tingling in my left thumb and forefinger which has persisted for the most part. It has since been joined by recurring pain in my forearm, back of my upper arm and nearly under my left shoulder blade. After discussing this with a co-worker here in the Southern Command I trekked to Rite Aid. I am typing this very note while wearing a nigh industrial brace on my left hand and attempting to re-teach myself how to type with the blasted thing on. I suspect that even once I sort out my ergonomic woes back at The Batcave the brace may be required simply because the damage is already done. All I can do now is try to prevent it from increasing.
Maybe I can spray paint this stupid thing a matte-black and slip a bat-symbol on to it. Or add a few LEDs for the Vader model...
Over the last few weeks I've been steadily feeling the encroachment of what is likely carpal tunnel syndrome. Literally on my way to Potrero I noticed a tingling in my left thumb and forefinger which has persisted for the most part. It has since been joined by recurring pain in my forearm, back of my upper arm and nearly under my left shoulder blade. After discussing this with a co-worker here in the Southern Command I trekked to Rite Aid. I am typing this very note while wearing a nigh industrial brace on my left hand and attempting to re-teach myself how to type with the blasted thing on. I suspect that even once I sort out my ergonomic woes back at The Batcave the brace may be required simply because the damage is already done. All I can do now is try to prevent it from increasing.
Maybe I can spray paint this stupid thing a matte-black and slip a bat-symbol on to it. Or add a few LEDs for the Vader model...