A wise man once told me:
"If you can't laugh at yourself, you should not laugh at others." It was my dad. At the time, I was laughing at him for falling into a stream we often fished from. He was soaking wet and his cowboy boots were full of water. He then pointed out I had mud on my butt, but it looked like I had pooped my pants. I had been sitting on the side of the bank, fishing. Good times.
I have been reminiscing a lot about my childhood and perhaps it is because I am organizing my family photos. Don't get all excited on me. I am only putting them in nice plastic photo tubs to keep moisture out and kept nice for Bug. Think about all the times you gripe about getting your picture taken. Now...go back 30 years (if you are that old, young bucks) and look at some memoirs, photos, clippings, notes. Aren't you glad you have them? Don't they bring back memories of the times? Without those things, would you have any brain activity that would trigger those thoughts? Maybe. Maybe not.
Where are you going with this, Fargo?
Nowhere. Isn't it great? I can go nowhere and you will follow me there. Dummies. Not really. I'm kidding. (about you being dummies)
So...I feel like life rolled over a new leaf for me and underneath it was a beautiful blossom. No. Not really. I'm messing with ya.
I do feel rested. Why? Drugs.
Let me show you the ways...
Doctor..blah blah..broke neck..blah blah..cervical degenerative disc disease..blah blah...treatments and later possibly surgery...blah blah. Now, you are all caught up.
So..I told the doc I did not want any narcotic or scheduled pain killers, etc. Good. Check Check.
I forgot the wonders of Flexeril. Bless me! I have had it once before.
Again...I must show it in charts. Why? Because they are fucking great, that's why!
|Sleep Chart: Feb 4|
|Sleep Chart: Feb 6|
|Sleep Chart: Feb 9|
So...I included sporadic sleep charts because they are all full of pink slashes and look same, same, so why bother including more. Notice on the last chart all the red hashes are gone except how long it takes for me to go to sleep and the alarm and denial of such (snooze button). I feel like a teacher right now. I just need one of those pointer thingies.
Isn't this marvelous, boys and girls? No, I am not high. I am expressing my inner teacher.
I still feel pain this morning, but I am optimistic it will get better. Yesterday, I was in neck traction and I thought it was weird. Not sure what I think about it. The longer I think about it, I will come up with some conclusion. Wait...coffee! Squirrel!
In, still, yet, furthermore, other news...Bug and I attended our first self-defense class together. I contacted her father and we agreed on it. No worries. I wanted her to feel empowered and hopefully it will build her self-esteem. Wrong. She is beating the shit out of me. Oh well. You should see the smile on her face. It is well worth it. Even the instructor, a 2nd degree black belt and wonderful man, was happy. He wasn't going to accept her. I had to sweet talk. Then...he agreed. He also let in another young person. They are both doing well. I think as mothers, we are satisfied with our choice and feel this is most excellent.
Now...where is that icy hot, heat pack, ice pack, and glass of wine? Wait...I must take my pills first.
But it sounded so vogue, right?