Ok, so a couple days ago, I noticed something that in all likelihood is strongly associated with my habit of consuming a gallon or more of a certain brand of cola that can feel free to give me money to post their name on this site. Anyway, what was happening was that I was getting this funny feeling in my chest. It wasn't like the normal sort of feeling -- you know, the kind you get when you throw your political career to the wind and inhale, or even that post-party feeling when you wake up in a strange locale wondering, "holy-trojan, what the fuck did I do?!" No sir, this was more like my heart begging me, "hey, why don't you quit drinking that horrible caffeine and give me some of that sweet, sweet, blood-thinning alcohol." Now, of course I had to comply with its request. After a day or two of compliance, however, the whining hadn't stopped -- this is why I am convinced that my heart is a woman, because it's never satisfied. Anyway, I told my girlfriend about it, and well, today I ended up in a doctor's office (see what I mean about women?).

The funny thing about doctors is that the second you mention the word "heart," they get all excited -- its like they see little insurance dollars dancing around on your chest or something. Anyway, so I ended up getting an EKG, which apparently showed nothing. You know though, to a doctor, nothing can't possibly ever mean NOTHING. So, in order to make damn sure he finds something, he ordered all sorts of additional extraneous crap. I've got to take a blood test (and I didn't even study - god I am lame), and tomorrow I am seeing a cardiologist, and then in a week, i get to go in for an echo cardiogram.

The best part is that he sent me home with this "Holter" on. I'm not exactly sure what its purpose is, but it is about the size of an iPod, and its plugged into these wires that are taped or glued or whatever, to various locations on my chest (seemingly at random, its almost like modern art). I get yo wear this for a solid 24 hours too. I've been telling strangers that I am dying and that it is some sort of strange life-support device that is allowing me to live that extra three hours.

Secretly though, I am pretending that I am a character in the Matrix...

...stop judging me, its the summer and I am bored as fuck, so cut me a break. I've got wires sticking out of my chest, I deserve to have at least one lame daydream.

Wish me luck tomorrow when they try to take my blood. I plan on fighting back. Nobody sticks a needle in me. Those things are scary.

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