Dim Google as Doctor

During this brief bout of “vacation” (still working) I’ve been reading this great book I happened to pick up called Typee by Herman Melville. To date, I have never read a book so well-written (albeit, the content is dry at times). And I know, I have this awful habit of setting superlatives after every book I read, and I’m sure it’s not really helping my street cred as a reviewer (when’s the last time classical literature and “street cred” were in the same sentence?)

Enough about books. Lately, I’ve been a dvd-watching fiend, all thanks to Netflix, which is like the best service ever! (urgh, another superlative.) And then, because I thought I was losing my hair (my sister says I’m not and that I’m full of it), and the thought of being [gulp] bald scared me to that Googling-self-diagnosing “bad-place”; I discovered on there that the only preventable cause of hair-loss (just in case my sister is full of it) is if its onset is stress-related.

So, I did the only rational thing. I went out and bought a bunch of video games. The rationale: if I can first-person-shooter myself into a dumber catatonic state after a rough day in the office, perhaps—perhaps—my neurons will be too comatose to notice when I’m stressed.

Google. Who needs doctors?