How we remember our births.
So a day has passed and nothing too bad has happened. I didn't sleep last night. It was some combination of worry, pain in my right foot and leg and old age I reckon. I don't know. I only know that when I tried to read I couldn't stay awake and when I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, I couldn't stop my mind from whizzing around and my legs from burning and cramping and aching. This is what the night brings nowadays.
I think the leg things came from the shopping trip to Costco. It went OK but I definitely hit the wall and my legs about gave out after about 50 minutes. It was mostly my right leg and it just turned into a painful lead weight. But I pushed through and made it to the end but once again, it was not pleasant.
As I lay awake last night, somewhere around the third or fourth cycle of shifting, shaking, tapping, etc, it struck me that this was what every night felt like back when I worked. Except, of course, I usually wrapped my right knee with ice, took 600 mg of ibuprofen, dexamethasone, and the better part of a quart of vodka every night. Then I would lay as still as I could with my legs elevated and wiggle my toes and legs to keep them mobile. Somehow every day at 0500 I would roll up on the side of the bed, awake well before the alarm went off and dismantle everything and crawl off to the shower to start it all over again. Every day. And then by about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, I would hit that wall when the lead would return to the legs and I would pretend that I was OK for the rest of the day and the drive home.
I remember at the end of the day, dreading the long walk out to the car in the parking lot, wondering if I was going to make it. When I finally opened the door of the car and sat down I would finally close my eyes and take as deep a breath as I could. It was the first good breath in hours, every day.
So now, no matter how bad my nights are, I am still thankful that I don't have to get up and pretend I fine and teeter on the edge of hurting someone all day.
Well that was a lot of whining for a Wednesday. Let's move on and get something out of this day.
I really need to get into the Rite Aid and pick up a prescription today or at least soon. I also truly need to paint something. I haven't painted in several days and it's all too easy to find other things to waste my time on. It's doesn't even matter what I paint. I was looking at the two pieces in the bathroom. The red balls that I did when I was dumping paint after painting something else. I just got them out of the bathroom and I'll see if I can match the colors and make a larger variation of them for the wall. They have great energy and movement. That's something I'd like to capture.
Onward,
More later,
As I lay awake last night, somewhere around the third or fourth cycle of shifting, shaking, tapping, etc, it struck me that this was what every night felt like back when I worked. Except, of course, I usually wrapped my right knee with ice, took 600 mg of ibuprofen, dexamethasone, and the better part of a quart of vodka every night. Then I would lay as still as I could with my legs elevated and wiggle my toes and legs to keep them mobile. Somehow every day at 0500 I would roll up on the side of the bed, awake well before the alarm went off and dismantle everything and crawl off to the shower to start it all over again. Every day. And then by about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, I would hit that wall when the lead would return to the legs and I would pretend that I was OK for the rest of the day and the drive home.
I remember at the end of the day, dreading the long walk out to the car in the parking lot, wondering if I was going to make it. When I finally opened the door of the car and sat down I would finally close my eyes and take as deep a breath as I could. It was the first good breath in hours, every day.
So now, no matter how bad my nights are, I am still thankful that I don't have to get up and pretend I fine and teeter on the edge of hurting someone all day.
Well that was a lot of whining for a Wednesday. Let's move on and get something out of this day.
I really need to get into the Rite Aid and pick up a prescription today or at least soon. I also truly need to paint something. I haven't painted in several days and it's all too easy to find other things to waste my time on. It's doesn't even matter what I paint. I was looking at the two pieces in the bathroom. The red balls that I did when I was dumping paint after painting something else. I just got them out of the bathroom and I'll see if I can match the colors and make a larger variation of them for the wall. They have great energy and movement. That's something I'd like to capture.
Onward,
More later,
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