What’s new, pussycat?

Ugh, I have been so unbloggy lately.  Well, I’ve been reading blogs, just not writing.  Why, you may ask?  Laziness.  Also compulsive reading and online game playing.  And I have bursitis in my shoulder, which I thought was an old-person disease but is apparently pretty much a strained muscle.  How does one get bursitis?  Apparently, repetitive motion, such as clickety-clickety typing all day, can do in your shoulder.  So I’ve been taking prescription-strength ibuprofen and occasional muscle relaxers (stupid non-preferred brand expensive muscle relaxers) and sleeping only on my right side to avoid hurting the shoulder more.  Now I think I’m having some sort of pain reliever tolerance build-up or something, though, because for two days I’ve been getting headaches when it’s time for my medication, as if I need ibuprofen to keep myself normal.   So I’m cutting down on that.  Which feels sad, needing to cut down on my ibuprofen usage because I’m getting addicted.  Like I’m sort sort of weird druggie person or something.

Ahem.  What else is new?  Well, I have been helping E out with his new job, where Tony Soprano Jr. is his boss.  So I’ve been driving around in unbearable heat and humidity, going to the houses of rich people and picking up donations for the firefighters’ union.  I should feel all humanitarian about this, I think, but really I feel like I’m working for the mob: “$10 for protection, for $50 you get tickets to see a crappy local band along with your protection!  No donation?  We’ll break your legs and your car windows.”  The boss-man is this semi-bald old dude who shaves the rest of his head, drives a shiny gold Cadillac with vanity plates and listens to Snoop loudly.  He also doesn’t seem to believe in holding his cell phone to his ear – rather, he lies it in his lap and yells into it.  I can totally imagine him with a huge fat cigar at a strip club with some bimbos on either arm and a shit-eating grin on his face.  After I met him today I felt awesomely naughty and mafioso, so I went and spent part of my gas money on Starbucks.  Because, you know, that’s what mafia gun molls do.  Totally.