It's late at night as I'm writing this.
I'm on drugs.
Oh yes, I am.
I had a lot of great post topics, but something funny happened. The pain meds kicked in and all my post topics went POOF right out of my head.
By the way, this is the type of pain that pain meds can't even get under control. So, I took pain meds and I'm in slightly less pain, but still – quite a lot of pain. Only to top it off, the room is kind of spinning-ing-ish and my brain doesn't work quite right and …
What was I saying?
I did a dumb thing.
Whoa – I'm really not used to these drugs anymore.
I don't know how I functioned when I had to take these drugs all the time.
I did something which shows the stubborn-ness (is that a word? – it looks so funny!) of my nature, I suppose.
Briefcase has been traveling for quite some time now. I am the ultimate corporate widow, in case you didn't already know that about me.
In any case, my two wonderful retrievers were running out of food. I went to the pet store to get more food. Since my car accident, this is something Briefcase is normally in charge of because with two large dogs we buy dog food in BIG sizes which I can no longer lift. (Because I have one arm! Except, I really have TWO arms, but only ONE works!)
Where was I?
Big sizes – as in, we buy 40 pound bags of food.
I walked into the pet store and the only employee in sight was a little, tiny, very old lady at the cash register. I got a shopping cart and went to the dog food section.
I eyed the 40 pound bag of dog food.
It stared right back at me.
"Maybe I can lift it with one arm," I thought.
And so I tried. I half dragged it off the shelf and I tried to use my right (bum) arm just to balance it.
But I guess I can't lift a big, bulky, 40 pound bag of dog food with my non-dominant left arm because it began to fall and there was my right arm under it trying so desperately to support it ……
And – it did not end well.
Oh, it ended sorta well.
I mean, the dogs got fed (in the end, with the help of other people).
But honestly, I can't remember a time in the last few months where I've felt so much pain.
Teeth clenching, omigod please let the pain meds kick-in, type of pain.
I texted The Torturer and told him, because I knew he would want to know.
Ok, so he doesn't want to know, but whining to him is a habit.
I'm *sure* he misses my whining.
I do miss him.
Can you even believe it?
That I could miss The Torturer?
And then I sat down to write a post. I had so many ideas to write about.
For one thing, I was going to tell you about The Biggest Bitch In The World who just so happens to live in Money Town. I encountered her at the grocery store this week. I am used to Orange County … I am used to the spoiled rich.
The Biggest Bitch In The World belongs in a category all of her own.
But now, the room is all spinning-ish and I can't quite get the details of my story straight. Not even in my own head, let alone trying to type the words out.
So I apologize for whatever this has turned out to be.
All the words look so funny!
Either I've spelled them all wrong or I'm high.
Maybe it's my new low-carb way of life?
Maybe it makes the pain meds affect me more?
It's very confusing.
And the punctuation thingies?
I'm sure they're all messed up too.
I know I'm going to regret doing this, but I'm going to hit "publish" anyway.
In three, two, one …..
© Twenty Four At Heart