So we were all wrong about that overnight detox (including, it seems, the resident head of oncology and diagnostic genius); if House’s writers treat his psychiatric care like they did his time in rehab, then I’ll re-classify it again, from sci-fi to comedy. Though that shot of Kutner was downright creepy, like Dave Bowman appearing in 2010. Human eyesight being continuous and all, even during hallucinations, I’ve always wondered why directors cut back and forth for the effect.
My dysplastic hip is acting up, despite the hyaluronan injections last fall, but instead of shopping for a cane with flames on it, I decided to run yesterday. I want to live! (Let this serve as damages testimony if there’s ever the need to value the use of my body in this capacity for a future personal injury suit.) Didn’t hurt in the least, even into my fourth mile. Strangely it only does when I’m in sedentary サラリーマン mode, like the pelagic shark that’d asphyxiate if not in constant motion.
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