I frequently don’t sleep well, but lately my insomnia has been worse than usual. Tuesday night, while tossing and turning into the wee hours of Wednesday morning, I contemplated taking a “mental health day”. Ordinarily, I don’t do this because 1) I feel too guilty doing so, and 2) like cocaine, it might become a habit that’s hard to break. Fortunately (?), my digestive system spiraled out of control and provided me with a legitimate excuse to stay home. After all, if I am going to spend the day in the bathroom, it might as well be my own.
While fantasizing about a day off, I imagined all the things I could do, given a little free time. The reality was I did not feel up to doing much at all. By afternoon, my ailments had improved, so I moved some furniture around. From years of living alone, I have learned how to move furniture without actually lifting, and I succeeded in swapping out the dining room and family room. I like the results, but not the side effects: I suffered a muscle spasm in my back.
Ow, ow, ow! I iced it, laid on tennis balls, stretched, gulped down Advil - nothing seemed to help much. By bedtime, the pain was tolerable but threatening to disrupt my sleep. In the nightstand, I found some Vicodin leftover from a root canal I had two years ago. Yeah, the label said, “Use before February, 2007″ but we all know that is just a suggestion. The pill didn’t do much for my back, but boy howdy, did I sleep well!
