Tired of Sitting

I am tired of sitting. I sit. I sit. And I sit again. Five days a week. For nine hours. I don't why there are so many periods in this paragraph already. My friend Bryan would tell me that this is grammatically incorrect. Lindsay wants to write a book with me. We can't even write a blog. She's written a book before. It's called Amber Shades of Grey. My sister is getting a divorce. She moved out this weekend. She has a small child. It's a hard thing. I go on vacation this friday for a week. I am going to Fire Island. I've never been. It's suppose to be very gay. And then I remind myself I am gay. But will there by any attractive people there?