I’m sure most people have their morning “rituals”. For most people, it means waking up in search of coffee or tea. It involves the most basic of things until we know with certainty where we’re going (Work, school, the grocery store, etc.). I had a solid idea of how today would go, but instead of being asleep for a few additional hours, I am sitting here, nursing a vanilla yogurt, listening to The Script. (I do listen to them a lot, but it’s also the song that just came on.)

I HURT. I don’t know if I’m capable of lifting my arms over my head today. 😦 I’m weighing my options. Do I spend the weekend packing, doing laundry, and catching up on my DVR queue, thus leaving all my other plans aside for Monday (which means going to bed early tomorrow and getting my ass out the door at 10:00 a.m.), or do I suck it up?

When excruciating pain makes your decisions for you, it SUCKS. You simply do not know until the last-minute if you’ll make it out of the house. I really want to see a movie next weekend, but I am almost certain I won’t get to see it until Christmas Day, weather permitting. It’s the fourth time I would be missing opening weekend for this particular film, and it pisses me off. DVD’s are awesome for a movie lover such as myself, but watching something you really want to see in the movie theater is a nice 2-3 hour escape. You also save money in the long haul if the movie sucks and you choose not to purchase it on DVD or Blu-Ray. If I wake up feeling like crap on Christmas Day, there’s no way in hell I’m dragging ass to see it. Therein lies a multitude of problems because every single day of my life is like that. Full of pain, slow, sluggish, no one in their right mind would sign up for this.

If you woke up this morning and nothing hurt, be grateful. I’ve had migraines so bad that my hair hurt, and it’s only grown about an inch since I cut it over the summer. I might not have noticed if I hadn’t seen the drastic tonal difference between the blue-black color I’ve had these past few months and my roots during my Fall Color Change. It was almost the equivalent of a not-so-natural-blonde with black or brown roots, though not nearly as severe. I don’t know if I like the new color, but if I don’t, I can change it in 30 days. There are cancer patients shaving their heads, so I should be grateful to have what I do.

If you wake up and not a single joint or muscle protests, you are blessed. My body is often in a perpetual state of “Go back to bed, dumbass!” I’ve had naps more restful than most nights where I slept for 6-10 hours. I track my sleep to better help my new neurologist, so I see the dips in my sleep as a failure on my part. I tell myself I stayed up too late or that I got distracted by something/someone, etc.

When a woman says she’s “getting ready for bed”, you might see her three hours later. That is 100% me most of the time. I go through every room making sure things were done, garbage thrown away, everything in its place, etc. Last night it was a last-minute trip to the laundry room to make sure I’d put my towels in the dryer. I hadn’t, but I only remembered when I was in the bathroom washing my face. I paused mid-wash and thought “Did you ever go back into the laundry room?” This resulted in me drying my face, quickly moisturizing, and going downstairs to see that not only was the washer still full of my clean stuff, but I’d also left clean clothes in the dryer. Clearly I got distracted when I was packing clothes and books. 😦 It’s times like these when I feel like a moron.

Sleep came easy once I got out of my head, but I woke up way too early this morning because my thermostat (I don’t know where you live, but it’s fucking cold here.) decided to play games with me not once, but twice. Before going to bed, I set it on 66, knowing it would be in the 40’s overnight. Sometime around 4:00 or so, I woke up to see what the hell was going on. “Why the hell is it so hot in here??” I yelled. (Yes, I talk to myself a lot. I get the best answers.) It was hot because my thermostat reset itself to 70 degrees. I can’t breathe when it’s that hot inside and doesn’t need to be. Unless it’s in the red, my heat does not go over 68 degrees. It’s a rule. I can put on an oversized sweatshirt or hoodie, but I don’t need to be wasteful. On a semi-regular basis, my thermostat screws with me. I woke up one summer morning unable to move. I’d set the thermostat for 64 degrees, which is typically my summer temperature these days, but when I woke up it was mysteriously 52 degrees. I’d love to jokingly say “It’s ghosts!”, but there’s no spiritual presence in this house, or I’d feel it.

So here I sit, in pain, unhappy, grouchy, and probably not in the right frame of mind to deal with people in public.

Monday is another day.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.