Sleepy and Sad Day

Sleepy and Sad day

I’ve been up since 0630 because I woke up with side effects from the Invega. I had spasticity and spaghetti arms. I took my pain meds, half an Ativan, and BP pill. I couldn’t go back to sleep because I was so uncomfortable. An hour later I decided I would go to Starbucks and maybe write as I had time to kill, plenty of time.

The bus was late so I didn’t get to Starbucks till after 0815. I was still groggy as I ordered my espresso and breakfast sandwich. I then wondered how I was going to pay for my meal when it dawned on me that I had to open the Starbucks app to pay. Duh. Did I mention I was sleepy? The espresso took longer than heating up my sandwich. There wasn’t many people waiting for their drinks so I don’t know why 5 shots of espresso took so long. As I reached the table where my stuff was, I almost poured my drink out as I put my bag on the floor. Yes, I didn’t put the cover on the reusable mug. Great day I am having. I ate my sandwich and played with my phone. One of my friends had posted a pic of a doc that “sent a letter to the president” about how a person in his ER had tattoos and was smoking brand name cigarettes. Then he said should my tax dollars go to this person because he was on Medicaid. I thought it was very judgmental. The doc in the picture was white. I can only assume the patient was a POC, but I could be wrong. I felt like saying why should the patient be denied health insurance because of what he smokes and that he or she gets tattoos? It really irked me.

I finished my breakfast and took out my journal and notebook. I opened the journal to write for a bit as there was some stuff I wanted to write. I kept glancing at my notebook, wondering what I should write. I was still wondering if I should continue with what I had or start something new. I am totally frozen with this. I know I have to solve it if I want this damn story on paper. Thing is, I wasn’t sure where I was going when I first wrote, so picking it up again might lead no where. I don’t know. I only wrote about a page so it can go anywhere. I just got to move forward some how.

I was getting sleepy. A couple of young people came in Starbucks looking for an outlet. They had another brand of coffee. The guy’s pants was almost to his knees. He had a large overcoat on which was basically preventing everyone from seeing his underwear. I guess they found an outlet to charge their phones. They sat at the opposite end of where I was sitting. I just missed the bus home. I was cold and wanted my bed. The wind made every thing colder. I had to wait an hour for the next bus so I just wrote in my journal.

I came home and tried to snooze but my mother was watching the Price is Right and it was fricken loud. I heard every bell and whistle plus the noise of the audience. It was difficult to sleep. I gave up around noon when the show ended. I had to leave in a half hour to catch the bus to see my therapist.

I brought my therapist some muffins and we talked, mostly about my father. His anniversary is at the end of the month. Hard to believe two years has gone by. I still remember everything the week he died. It all happened pretty fast. I got kind of sad but I was too tired to let it affect me. My therapist said I sounded groggy. I was. He will be off next week so I will see him the following week.

I came home and just wanted sleep. I was still very cold despite the temps going up 10 degrees from the morning. I read Twitter to try and find out about Xander Bogaerts as he hurt his ankle. There wasn’t any new news. I got into bed and for the first time, I wasn’t warm under my fleece blanket. I must have laid there for about 10-15 minutes when my lower leg from the knee down felt like it was going to cramp. I took the other half of Ativan so I wouldn’t cramp. I waited for it to try and settle and then tried laying down again. My ankle was hurting really bad but I didn’t want to sit up again to take pain meds. I was just getting settled when the door bell rang. My mother was screaming for me. I didn’t care. I wasn’t going downstairs. My foot and ankle hurt too much and I knew if I stood, it was going to flare. I don’t know why my mother didn’t just call me on the phone. It turned out to be my books that I ordered. Fricken UPS had rung the bell.

I checked Twitter after sleeping for about 1.5 hours. My stupid med alarm went off and scared me to death. I wanted to go back to sleep but knew it was going to go off again in forty-five minutes for my night meds. Then I heard Wheel of Fortune so got up. I desperately needed food as the only thing I had eaten was the sandwich from this morning. I had something to eat and found out about Bogey. He cracked his ankle bone. Great. That possibly means 4-8 weeks out. I hope he doesn’t need surgery. He will be out for the season. I feel really bad for him. He had hurt his ankle while chasing a foul ball near the Rays dugout yesterday. I hope he heals quick. I am sad to see him hurt like this the beginning of the season. He was really getting into a groove. I don’t know who will take over his position. It won’t be the same infield with him gone for a while.

any thoughts?

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