Pain-Pleasure Ratio

There seems to be some kind of invidious built-in justice system in my body and mind as I get older. Or, I should say, the latent one from my youth is far more pronounced than ever. Here's what I mean:

• If I drink a lot of booze, I feel like hell later. Sometimes it even kicks in before the next morning.
• I I eat a lot of food, I feel gross and I can't move.
• I I spend all day playing video games and staring at the ceiling, I am wracked with grad student guilt. And I was raised neither Catholic nor Jewish! I can only imagine what it must be like for my fellow grads who were!
• If I sleep in late, I've got fewer hours in the day.
• If I kill my noisy neighbors with a hatchet, I'll ruin a perfectly good shirt and feel vaguely bad about it.

And so on and so forth. At least sex just makes me sort of tired and dopey...I can live with that.

Anyway, today I'm staying home, working on my commodity-exchange website for world history, waiting for the DHL guy to come and deliver the new digital camera we bought to take pictures of Becky's crafts for her inchoate craft blog. As some of you may remember, DHL is the genius company that left my flat panel monitor on my front porch to be stolen (and signed for it using the name of the street we lived on as the signature.) I am less than thrilled about waiting for them, as opposed to FedEx or UPS. Either way, I should probably take a shower now.