Notes on Zeek, Arthritis and Ageing

Last weekend was particularly challenging. You see, I am starting to believe that I have both the stamina and temperament of a hundred year old arthritic man.

On Friday night I was fortunate enough to attend a pokemon themed pub crawl. Yes, this is a thing. I dressed up as a member of team rocket. For those of you that aren't geeks or dweebs or nerds below is what a member of team rocket looks like.

Then on Saturday night I had the distinct pleasure of attending a spectacular 21st birthday celebration. This one was done properly. The celebrant, Zeek, turned 21 on the night of the party. This is undoubtedly the best way to do things. I find it unreasonable that anyone should hold a party six months after the day of importance.

I had the best time! I danced a little. Stared a little (Miss Leggy from Dabi's Party: The Saga of Love (Part 2) was there. I had great difficulty taking my eyes off her. I am fairly confident that if I combine all the mental pictures I have taken of her over the past year and a half, I should have seen just about all of her. This is rather exciting. She on the other hand wasn't that keen on my fine visage but I didn't mind too much. There is no love sweeter than the unrequited). I enjoyed the fine liqueur available (Is there any caffeine in Patron? I should hate to have cheated on my pledge of ultimate abstinence from the stuff). And I made two very interesting friends.

It sounds like the best night doesn't it? It would have been had the most shocking thing not happened. At around two o'clock in the morning, while in the middle of a truly spectacular move of medal winning spasticness (To say that I am a prodigy on the dance floor would be no great exaggeration) I felt tired. It wasn't the usual sort of tiredness where you need an hour long power nap to recharge your batteries, it was the sort of tiredness that felt like if I didn't hibernate for a week I would die. I dragged myself out of the venue and put myself in a taxi. When I got home I soothed my aching joints and muscles with a cup of Twinings fresh and fruity tea. I wondered how I had managed to age so much in the last three years and revelled in the days of my youth; the days when I could go out on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday and still be up for another go on the following Monday.

Happy Days,

Ps. Even though it's Monday and your birthday was on Sunday and even though you'll probably read this sometime in December, I think it's still worth saying happy birthday. I would say more but I have just finished dominating my squash session and I reek of manliness. 

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