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$WHD == /dev/hell;
another weekend, another 2 day, post-keyboard cool-down that beckons the dull resonant ache of wrist hurt disease like icebergs calling sheet metal from deep in the fog.
it's when i stop, and let things unwind, that it really really hurts; right now i'm about four handfuls of ibuprofen into the worst WHD flare-up of recent memory. no scooters, no swinging, no sleep.
observing my failure, yet again, to sleep even the slightest bit longer than a lab rat dosed to ld50 of clinical grade meth, the girl coerced me into trekking north to seattle with the doe-eyed ambtion of visiting IKEA and aquiring a standup desk.
(i seem to recall her citing something about the implied change in work station ergonomics helping to alleviate symptoms. )
—though readily willing to concede this as an intelligent course of action, i can not help but to doubt its ultimate effectiveness...
i mean, after this many years of micro-breaks, macro-exercises, accunpuncture, yoga, shock-therapy, cortozone injections and arthritus perscriptions, i've learned that self-medicating with bags of frozen (and melted and refrozen and melted) peas is the best short-term remedy, and have begun to realize that the probabability of a long-term remedy is asymptotically bounded to $WHEN_HELL_FREEZES_OVER.
then again, it was a nice day to go for a drive, and i've always been a sucker for a woman behind the wheel.