Transplanted Life
Saturday, November 15, 2003
 
I feel so lazy
The audience reading this for entertainment is going to look at the lack of an entry yesterday and say "oh, look, Michelle must have gone clubbing and gotten laid again last night!" (For some reason, a lot of the people who send e-mail address me as Michelle. Never mind that I've never referred to myself by that name, except in quotation marks to indicate that that's how some other person thinks of me) The truth is, though, I just didn't do anything which interested me enough to commit to some hard drive somewhere.

Like, yesterday? Got up. Worked. Went to a movie. Got home, finished the latest issue of Analog, falling asleep on top of it because "Brass Tacks" just didn't interest me much this month. Today? Cleaned the apartment, watched some TV I'd taped during the week, and fruitlessly searched for more useful information on Michelle Garber pre-July, Martin Hartle post-July, Natalya Tarakovsky, soul transferrance, you name it. Didn't go out clubbing or anything like that, not because I've decided I want to live my/Michelle's life another way, but because it's just too darn cold out and Michelle didn't supply me with a heavy winter coat.

I suppose I could have written about how odd it is that I can just have a mundane, uneventful day in Michelle's body, how even an uneventful day will inevitably involve shaving her legs or carrying a purse or having some young man open a door in an attempt to curry favor, but I've done it before, and to be honest, I'm so past being unnerved by that stuff as to be beyond surprise at being beyond surprise. It'll be four months sometime next week, which in one sense seems like too little to become as acclimated as I am (did I really go from practically not being able to shower because I didn't want to touch this body to actually seeking out sex with men in such a short time?), but is also 1% of my life. Sure, 1% doesn't seem like much, but it is a noticeable fraction. It's about as much of my life as my relationship with Maggie is, for instance. or how long I worked on my MQP at WPI. It's big enough to rate a chapter in any biography of me, even if it weren't so important as to be, well, defining.

But, anyway, nothing of particular interest happened the past couple days.

-Marti
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net