“I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me.” –-Hunter S. Thompson
As I write this, it is Friday and I am tired.
For those of you who were unlucky enough to read my last post, Life was good enough to recently throw an abscessed tooth my way. Well, on Monday I had it pulled. While a universally accepted unpleasant experience, the staff was great and the procedure itself comparatively quick and without complication, so I guess I can be thankful about that. Still, I left the clinic with a gaping hole in my mouth, a heavy case of sticker shock at the bill and the distinct feeling I’d been hit in the face by a baseball bat.
The next day I felt a little better. The pain was only as bad as being kicked in the face by a mule. Now, though, the pain is gone, replaced by an intermittent dull ache that can be taken care of by a good dose of over-the-counter pain meds if the spirit moves me. On the up side, the antibiotics prescribed to me haven’t been as nauseating as I had expected, but they sure have taken away my appetite. I consider this a happy accident, since I’m trying to drop the weight I packed on during my months of hermitage last year.
Speaking of which, I think that is going pretty well. I don’t know how much I’ve lost, but I’m pretty sure a few pounds have disappeared. I’m not really sure if it matters anyway. The scale at home is inaccurate at best and I find those contraptions very disheartening. So, I try to avoid them unless my curiosity gets the better of me, after which (usually) I make a bee line to the local Nico’s for a carne asada burrito! And rice.
Odd thing about the last post, though. Once I came down from the Vicodin (word to the wise: try not to take it on an empty stomach) and re-read what I wrote, I really struggled whether or not I should post it. Some of the stuff was really out there, even for me, but in the end I decided to hold true to the blogs mission so I posted it anyway. That being said, I make no apology nor any excuse for what I wrote. It is what it is.
Actually, in my drug-addled state, I found the whole exercise rather fun in a “freewriting gone horribly wrong” kind of way. I might even try it sober one day, although I doubt I’ll get the same kind of results. I used to do that all the time in my capricious youth, only then my drug of choice was alcohol. I don’t do that anymore, either, and without sounding too preachy I’m much better for it. Only now do I realize that weirdness and insanity is a way of life that can be maintained without the need of mind-altering substances. All you need for that is kids.
The tiredness is still here, perhaps even because it’s Friday. Or maybe my body is still not yet used to having its carbs and fat cut down so much. Or maybe I’m still recovering from the stress of the tooth extraction. It might even be the fact that I’ve restricted myself to just three caffeinated drinks a day (another of my goals). Hell, it could even be the kids. I think the most likely case is that it is a combination of everything. It’s been a tough couple of weeks, though not a mind-, body- and soul-wrenching as it could have been. At least I’m thankful for that. I’ve had far too many stretches that fit this description in the past few years, so you’ll have to excuse me if I say I think a deserve a break.
Still, I could use a beer.