I declare this "no paragraphs" day. Try to follow along. Last night the family went to the YMCA. Wifey went to a body pump class, and I lifted weights and worked out on an elliptical machine, a.k.a. a cross trainer. This is a machine that makes your body move in a way that's part cross-country skiing, part walking, part Dance Dance Revolution. It burns more calories (metric: ka-lo-reez') than a simple treadmill without the high impact brutality of running, which I hate with a purple passion. Anyway, this was my first time exercising since being sick for a week or two, off and on, with a cold. I did 30 minutes (metric: mee'-nutz), and then I lifted weights. It was miserably crowded so I could only do so much. I worked out until I was queasy, which I was sure at the time was sufficient. Then I went home with the baby while Wifey continued to abuse herself. I bathed the child and put her to bed, and then I watched about a half hour of L.A. Confidential, which I got from Netflix only because I had seen about 80% of it in small, non-sequential chunks over the years on basic cable. I totally dig noir films. During the night, I had coughing fits until I dragged my ass out of bed and killed off a bottle of Nyquil. I had the most disturbing "teeth falling out" dream ever, but that's for a dream log. Today, I have to get an application out the door. It's done. All I have to do is arrange for web server space and have the files moved. Then I am done!