Today I've mostly sat in my grey sweatpants watching reruns of Star Trek Voyager on Netflix and not being able to turn the upper half of my body. When I did have to get up and move around, my upper back and neck burned and crackled like bacon in a pan. What's coming out of my nose resembles soft scrambled eggs. I don't know which menu item from the grand slam could describe how my head feels. Hearty wheat pancakes? Shrug. Coffee has not been served and that's probably for the best.
When my husband got home from work he offered me one of his muscle relaxers.
That's a loaded offer. One I have had to think about.
It's loaded because my muscles are indeed very tense and it's been very painful even with ibuprofen, so I'm tempted to ease that pain with something stronger. It's loaded because I'm sensitive to medications of that sort and if I take one, or even half of one, I'm probably going to either sleep for the next 24 hours or vomit like I had actually eaten at a Denny's at 2 a.m. after bar hopping.
Not that I've ever been bar hopping or at a Dennys past 1:30 in the morning, it's just that either way, when I get to that fork in the road, I'll be so very very high without the ten dollar Jager bombs.
Half hour after I take half a pill it'll be all unicorns. Glitter. Cotton Candy. Oooh, wonder if I can buy pizza scented scratch and sniff stickers on Amazon? Goddamn my husband has great thighs. Where can I buy one of these bastards:
...and then Zzzzzzzzz....
Check with my Facebook page tomorrow to see how it went.
Seriously, I want a Muffin Monster Grinder. That guy in the red shirt in the video, his thighs ain't bad.