It's official!

I hate my body.

No, it's not another "do-these-make-my-ass-look-fat/it's-not-the-jeans, honey" insecurity moment. I'm talking about my health here.

Maybe I should have been warned that my semi-robust North American immune system would be worthless against mutant NZ strains of things. I know almost enough about virus evolution to be sure that is a valid concern on my part. Maybe I'm just special, and NZ viri/bacteria aren't actually that different from the NA ones I'm supposed to be immune to by now. But I wasn't this sickly before. I swear.

I repeat. I hate my body.

I just finished a book called Mindscan. (RJ Sawyer cranked out a new novel and no one notified me. I found it by random chance at the library. For shame!) As usual for Sawyer novels, it was set in Toronto about 40yrs into the future. The main character was one of the first people to upload his consciousness into an artificial, infinitely upgradeable, theoretically immortal body. Sure, for the first hundred years or he couldn't smell or feel or taste anything...but right about now, I so don't care. I want to upload out of this useless meatbag RIGHT NOW. C'mon neuro-people and computer science types. Make it happen. *cries*