… and it’s only Wednesday.
Saturday night, I went to dinner with the beau and his brother to one of my favorite Asian places in town. After, we rented “Let Me In,” because when you put something on a DVD cover that says how awesome the movie is, and that quote is from Stephen King, I obviously must see that movie. (The best wrap-up I can give: “Let Me In” is what you get when a writer/director takes a horror-movie concept and treats it like an everyday drama. The movie beats you over the head with nothing and leaves you to make some necessary assumptions. It’s beautifully written and interestingly told, and the child actors are amazing. I see why King liked it — it’s very King’ian. That, and he loves stories about kids. Have you read “It”? My fav book of his, it’s pretty much all about children. Ditto the first half of “Hearts in Atlantis,” another King No. 1).
Anyway, I’m off topic: By the end of the movie, my throat was getting scratchy. But Sunday night, I felt like shit. Monday morning, I had a full-fledged cold. Called in sick to wallow in my congestion, but I felt much better yesterday.
Fast-forward to this morning, around 6.30. I was doing the uber strenuous activity of sleeping when I decided to get really crazy and flip over — when I promptly pinched a nerve in my neck/back. Holy mother of why. I’ve pinched a nerve in my back once before and my memory did not fail me: It leaves you pretty much debilitated. I can’t turn my head in either direction without letting lose a barrage of curse words.
To which I have to say: Thank God for my boyfriend. Seriously, how do people who live alone with no family in town do it without an amazing other, be it romantic or platonic? I had crashed at his place last night, so he drove me home this morning (because I don’t recommend driving when you are unable to check your blind spots) and proceeded to rub generic Bengay (aka: Old People Ointment) on the spot between my spine and right shoulder blade and up into the crook of my neck and shoulder, where the pain is concentrated. He helped me put sheets on my bed, because I did laundry last night and let the mattress spend the night nekkid. I even stole some milk from him because I need to go grocery shopping — Lord knows I ain’t going today — and Dad, who is NO stranger to gimpy backs, said warm milk is the best thing to take with Ibuprofin.
So here I sit at 8.46 a.m., wide the frack awake, drinking warm milk from a Donald Duck mug (he does make it a little better) staring straight ahead because I can’t look any other direction.
How’s your morning going?