I wish that was the correct way to say "I am tired" in French, but sadly I think there are errors, more specifically relating to tense. I often think how sad it is how my knowledge of French has dropped off precipitously over the years but then it's not as if I've been taking any initiative to do anything about it.
So lately I have been pretty tired and while generally I would think this is a bummer, it's kind of refreshing since when I am not active, I usually am fairly close to being an insomniac. The last couple of days I have done two mile jogs, but I think it's my body recovering from the flu rather than this modicum of exercise that is the culprit for my fatigue. It's kind of nice to go to bed at night and want/need the sleep.
I'm not sure how much the general public is following the current incarnation of the MLB's steroid scandal, but I think it's been front page type stuff. This latest tidbit that links Roger Clemens to a Jose Canseco party where he is alleged to have had his first contact with steroids. At this point, no amount of drug use in sport shocks me. I've been out of the sports loop for a while actually, a far cry from the days I used to scour the sports' page as a child. I've been slowly trying to get back into it, but all of the drug scandals aren't exactly raising my enthusiasm. I'm sure people use plenty of drugs (I guess I should specify PEDs when I say drugs in this context) in soccer too, but I think that's going to be my sport of choice once again. With the aid of the interweb, it shouldn't even be that hard to follow anymore.
In unrelated news, I've been getting some odd phone calls on my cell phone. I'm sure this happens to everybody with reasonable frequency but with it picking up of late, I'm searching for some explanation. Aside from getting a lot of messages from some old Spanish grandmother a couple of years ago (who must think her grandson or whoever I was supposed to be hates her), I think I had a clean slate. Whenever I get these random phone calls I always look them up on google to see if they can be accounted for. Sometimes, well, they can. Recently my fun call list has included some pizza place in Red Bank, NJ (also home of Kevin Smith's comic shop), multiple automatons (incidentally, one of my favorite words of late), and even such numbers as simply "102." I don't know how three digit numbers dial me up, but it's happened more than once. It probably means I'm going to be murdered soon.
But back to being tired. Last week on the train ride home I was so exhausted I fell asleep on the shoulder of the portly man seated next to me. I remember being annoyed when he sat next to me for some reason, possibly because he was enormous, but I think more because he was rude and also there were three-seaters with only one person in them and I was in a two-seater. Whatever the case, when I awoke he gave me a pretty dirty look and I couldn't help but think it was hilarious. It wasn't as touching as the time I fell asleep on the Fung Wah, only to awaken before the guy next to me to note that he had fallen asleep on my shoulder. In that instance I just pretended to still be asleep until he woke up so as to avoid any potential man-falling-asleep-on-the-shoulder-of-a-stranger-who-is-also-a-man type embarrassment. And on that note, I think I shall catch some z's.
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