Friday though, I had to go to Home Depot. I didn't want to, but the disabled guy is rebuilding the deck. And he was going to re-use the steps on the back part of the deck. He ended up breaking them (or they were so old they fell apart, I'm not sure). He told me, "If you want steps anytime soon, you're gonna have to go get them yourself."
I wanted those damn steps because I don't like letting the dogs out on the driveway. Its a clear shot to the street, dammit. They're (mostly) little and would get hurt or worse. Not to mention that Gypsy is a people-hater and there are people who walk down the sidewalk.
So, I dragged myself to Home Depot. Hot. Humid. Bleh. I got the two pieces of pre-cut wood that makes a step-frame and then picked up some flowers for myself. OH, speaking of flowers, the disabled guy threw away my dried roses and I am not happy about it. I have yet to get replacements, because roses that are fresh-cut from the bush don't dry the same way as flower-shop roses do. (I have a rosebush in my yard, I've tried it!).
Where was I? Oh yeah, Friday. Fucking Friday. At the end of the day, I was fairly tired, I mean, come on, I had four hours of sleep and had to spend two hours in the heat and humidity. Through the day, I was sore, but not much more than I am usually. I function basically at a middle level on that pain scale. If I'm not in tears, that's a normal day.
Last night, I went to bed at ten PM. Laying in bed, not moving... my muscles felt like they were on fire. The burning feeling I had felt as though my muscles were expanding against my skin. If I dared to move, it felt as if my muscles were going to escape through my skin. In a most angry way. I can't imagine anything bursting through the skin in any manner but angry...
After being very still for maybe ten minutes, I decided to move. Big mistake. The pain seared through my body as if I'd just been punched in the gut. I felt like gravity was pulling down extra hard. I felt as if I had to peel myself up in stages. First my hand, then my elbow, then my shoulder... And it hurt so bad that I cried. I fucking cried from the pain. How I even had pain was beyond me. I'd taken my pain meds on schedule (Vicodin at 6PM, muscle relaxers shortly after 7 PM). And yet, here I was, unable to move without cringing. I don't know when I finally fell asleep, but I know I was awake for at least an hour, maybe more.
When my alarm went off this morning, I could barely sit up. I dragged myself upright and sat on the edge of the bed for a few long moments. I did my usual morning stuff- Internet things, took my morning stay-alive pills, ate some cereal. I had a 90 minute hot flash during that time too, so not only was I itchy and in pain, I was clammy to the touch.
I dragged myself back to bed and the disabled guy was already up. I turned the AC down (you know, so it'd blow cold air for longer) and turned my fan on high. I sprawled across the bed at an angle and waited for sleep to come. It took a while but I had a broken, sporadic nap. The good thing was that the AC and fan killed the hot flash.
I sit here now, still exhausted, still having that burning muscle pain. When I do actually stand up, my muscles scream a symphony that sounds like all the instruments need to be tuned. My youngest child plays the violin, I know what out-of-tune sounds like. If you're not sure, just think of the "music" that "those damn kids these days" listen to and you'll get it.
My muscles feel like they're being compressed together. You know how a good stretch makes you feel better? Yeah, the opposite of that feeling.
I fucking cried over it and it pisses me off.
But, here, look at these photos... this is what I do when I feel like shit.
Ivy Geraniums
Ivy Geraniums
Petunias
There you have it. That's what I do when I feel awful. Would you like to see what I do when I'm not feeling like I've been thrown by a horse onto the asphalt?
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