This weekend was very annoying. Not just because the Oscars were terribly boring, but because I was kept awake and irritated by a very achy/sore wrist. Since Friday.

The most annoying part about my wrist is that I can't explain or understand where the pain came from -- but I know it kept me from doing a lot of things I wanted (needed?) to do.

Granted, pain and swelling in my wrist wouldn't necessarily keep me off of the elliptical cross-trainer ... but sometimes when a joint hurts so much it consumes the rest of your body and puts you in a really bad mood. So annoying!

After a weekend of self-medicating (for better or for worse), lots of ice and a little will power, my wrist is slowly feeling better.

Which means that I had no excuse not to shave this morning. (God forbid I left the house without a clean shave, right?) Which, given perspective, made a painful wrist both a curse and a blessing this weekend.

Last night I was in the men's room at a restaurant. No news there. While I was washing my hands, I witnessed an interaction which lasted maybe 10 seconds, but will stay with me forever.

Probably not what you think.

There was a man standing in the middle, I'd guess about 45 years old, unwrapping a sealed plastic bag with tubes dangling from it. A second man, much older, asked what he was doing. Without skipping a beat, the younger man looked up and with a half smile replied "God gives us all challenges," and then proceeded to go into the stall to -- I'd only imagine -- swap out a colostomy bag.

"God gives us all challenges" -- that sent shivers down my spine. I'm not a religious person, I wouldn't personally qualify a medical condition with religion, but I did take a minute to reflect. That man had a very admirable way of looking at a very bad medical situation.

God gives us all challenges.

I'm not sure where all of the motivation has come from, but I have worked out (at the gym no less) the past four days in a row. That's like unprecedented. Especially since I didn't work out during the entire month of November.

Hey, life happens.

November came and went, there was a lot of mass consumption of food, some family thrown in there and unfortunately, no time for the gym.

Until this week that is.

Perhaps it's the looming holidays, or the stress or the reality that my belt just earned an additional hole (the least scientific way to measure, but the most depressing way to determine weight), but I have a bee-in-my-bonnet (as they say) to work out, sweat my tush off and get back into shape. This body looks like it's ready to be donated to science fiction.