Thursday, April 2, 2009

Excuse me, Sir, but have you seen my Gusto?

Jeez, people: I have absolutely no gusto. Zero gusto. I'm gustoless. I am sans gusto. Even by pre-sick standards, I am devoid of gusto. Take all the gusto in the world and get rid of it, and that's how much gusto I have. I am gusto-free. I'm the anti-gust0. I would take a nap, but I don't have enough gusto. If the gusto I have could be converted to electricity, it would maybe power a cell phone for fifteen minutes, less if a phone call were made. I had some gusto, but I blew it, and now its gone. I want to write long, beseeching letters to my former gusto and beg it to return. I want to write love songs to my gusto, but I don't have enough gusto. Am I clear? Are we all on the same page re: my lack of gusto? okay, then.
I am not talking about energy. I have more energy than I did a few days ago. In fact, I really don't have any desire to take a nap, or rest, I just don't have any desire to do anything else. I have no zest. I'm zestless. I'm sans zest. Etc. etc.
I just came from the physical therapist, and I am frustrated at my rate of improvement. My knee still really hurts, and I'm starting to think it will always feel this way, and I'll never be able to squat again. Not that I was high on squatting before, but I could pick up a dropped pencil when it rolled under the table, you know? I had a sore throat: How in the world did that turn into a perpetually sore knee? Shit.
On the way back from the physical therapist, I stopped at the farmer's market. This always makes me feel good. I feel very earthy and spiritual and grounded at the farmer's market, even if all I buy is kettle corn. But today I even bought lettuce, and I did not get that holy feeling. Is it wrong that I came back from two weeks in Hawaii a month ago and I feel like I need a vacation? I want to stare at the ocean and listen to podcasts until it gets chilly and dark, and then go inside and stare at something else.
I have to yank myself out. I have to put away the kettle corn, put on some good tunes, and yank myself out. The first thing I can think of that I need to do when I yank myself out is a load of laundry, and that gets me to feeling, aw, to hell with it. I should just stand up, put one foot in front of the other, move my arms in front of me, and maybe, without even thinking about it, a load of laundry will start turning in the washer, and piles will start getting smaller. You think?
Did you see that picture of the Obamas with the queen of England and prince Phillip? The Obamas tower over the monarchs. Its hilarious! And they're not posed, and they're just standing there looking awkward, smiling, knowing how ridiculous they look all together, two giants among the pygmys.
Oh gusto, where have you gone! Come back to me, my love!

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