Bringing out the food in me

Energy would be a great thing right now. Also, less back pain would be good. Add these to my Christmas list, please.

I have been trying really hard not to take much pain medicine (even though we all know how much I love it) because I don’t want to get to the point where, in order to be comfortable, I have to have it. When I take it, my emotions are dulled, my mind is muddy, and my body is mush (blissful, I know). But I can’t stand to be that way all the time. So today, I finally saw a “physical terrorist” who, in order to establish an idea of my range of motion and degree of the injury, twisted me this way and that until I felt like a giant, drugged-up pretzel. She redeemed herself with a hot pack and a tens unit, but now, I would like to kick her. Well, it’s a cross between wanting to kick her and wanting to make myself into a burrito inside my down comforter. One of the two.

I am still in a pretty good mood, despite the pointless inservice this morning, the busy office, and the PT. I just feel like a bowl of spaghetti. If that makes sense. (Even if it doesn’t. That’s how I feel. Shut it.)

I am tired, but not ready to sleep. I have so much to say, but barely the energy to say it. And I desperately wish I could keep thoughts in order. (They may seem to be in order, but I have already edited this thing about five times…I quit now though. Editing is hard, dude…)

Oh well. I hope that with all of this terrorism coming up, I can recover and be normal again. Well…Normal is a strong word.