For the past three days, I've been con­fined to my bed — 24/7. It hasn't been extremely fun. On top of my com­ing down with the flu, I haven't been able to feel my arms. The lat­ter is com­pletely my fault, though. On Tues­day after­noon, I was lift­ing in the Rocky ath­letic cen­ter. The only prob­lem with this was that I was doing it with­out a spot­ter. When the bar became too heavy for me, I set it on my chest. I would find out later that this was not one of my best ideas. When I woke up on Wednes­day, I (no exag­ger­a­tion) could not feel my arms.

I've taken this lit­tle vaca­tion to think about some things. Most of my con­scious time has been spent on this. I've thought about Megan, Zhanna, and what I'm going to do about every­thing. As much time as I spend on this, I can't come up with a viable solu­tion. I sup­pose it's a catch-22. I like both of them, yet I want nei­ther of them. (I don't think that's the best way to describe it, but it'll have to do.) Life is best lived through expe­ri­ence. Megan thinks that she's in com­pe­ti­tion with Zhanna. I really don't think that's what it is. I don't think I could do that any­way. It's just not fair. I guess I'll just have to see what happens …