I Should Have Just Had A Martini
October 03, 2006
I'm suffering though the remnants of a NyQuil hangover today.
It all started with a rather impressive mood swing, something I haven't had regularly since the doctor replaced my hormones, and it just kicked my ass.
It started late yesterday afternoon, just the usual sort of "poor me" nonsense that I seem to randomly indulge in, probably kicked off by reports of nutcases executing little girls and stupid congressmen indulging in cyber-slap and tickle with teenage boys and secret reports of family scandals.
And then I read an Anne Lamott essay and THAT DID IT. Boo fucking hoo, all the way up Connecticut Avenue.
But I was taking Mom to dinner so I had precious little time for Woe Is Me. Chinese, of course, because it means she gets lunch out of it too. We had an agreeable time, but she's wobbly and trembly and forgetful, more than ever. But she did ask whether her hair color was okay -- a good sign.
So I got home and curled up on the couch under a blanket and turned on the TV. Luckily, Olivia Benson and company were investigating a sex murder involving bananas, rich bisexual philanderers, and Russian hookers. Now that's some lighthearted entertainment! Guaranteed to cure your funk!
By the time Joe got home, I was watching the goddamn Iggles beat up the Packers and the mental fatigue has transmogrified into a generalized body ache. Isn't that what they used to call neuritis? Or was that neuralgia? Anyway, I had both of them. So Joe determined that I needed a good solid adult dose of the magic green elixir.
God, that stuff is nasty.
Anyway, I managed to stagger upstairs before it felled me and slept hard and heavy until about four, when I woke up with the head sweats. Then I dreamed about my trip to New Orleans, but it wasn't a bad dream, just my usual sort of screwball travel dream. Then the alarm went off.
And I've been trying to stay awake all day. A couple nice long walks to and from the main building helped, and I'm planning to go stretch myself in a number of embarrassing directions tonight, and I just drank a Coke. (There is nothing quite so invigorating as a Coke burp through the nose.) But all these solutions have been temporary. I just feel like lying down and closing my eyes. At random moments my eyes have been seizing the day and closing on their own.
So. I'll either be nice and alert when I get home, or I'll simply walk in the door and fall down.
Bets?