...which seems to be the story of my life these days...
Didn't see the doctor on Friday. Not because I messed up -- though that wouldn't have been a surprise -- but entirely due to a secretary's screwup. Somehow, she didn't enter the appointment into the computer, and I was basically told I could wait (just in case someone else didn't show) or come back next Friday.
I'm going back next Friday.
I didn't sleep last night. Not a wink. I've spent today trying not to simply jack it in and head for bed. That's how I know it rained here...when daylight came, the pavement was wet, but the precipitation had stopped.
The back still hurts. Oh, boy, does it. Driving over a speed bump or raising my head too high makes me pine for assuming a fetal position. I could still use those warm female hands rubbing my back, but they're in short supply in my world....
I'm facing two choices right now: one is to lay a bitter political rant for y'all based on things I've been reading/hearing; the other, a heavy dose of Old-Fartism and dreary reminiscences inspired by a DVD a friend sent that I have been watching.
I've decided on neither for the moment, though if my insomnia extends into a second night, I may well change my mind.
Right now, I'd gleefully change places with any of about 2,794,860,321 people in the world, Jim.
And I'm fairly certain none of them would want to deal with my current levels of stress, loneliness or pain.
But enough of that. Tomorrow, as Scarlett O'Hara once said, is Another Day.
What the hell did she know about it?
22 hours ago