Friday night I had trouble sleeping (and based on mutterings
in various friends' journals, a bunch of other people were
unintentionally awake as well). I was supposed to show up at
the recording studio "in the afternoon" on Saturday, so well
after dawn Saturday, when I started finally feeling sleepy, I
SMSed Mike to ask whether that could mean 14:30-ish, and he said
the mornings folks were running late, so yeah, that'd be fine.
So I got a wee nap. Not enough, but enough to do
at least a little good. (14:30 wound up being more like 15:15;
the Purple Rock Lobster Eater post was from my phone at a
stoplight on the way to the studio. Jim and Felicia were just
packing up when I got there, so I wasn't actually late.)
Then I turned wrong or something as I was putting instruments
into the trunk of my car, and I felt a muscle in my back do
Something Uncomfortable. I could tell at the time that it
was not going to be a simple, "Oh, that hurt but it'll stop
soon," but I still hoped it wouldn't get any worse. *sigh*
It did. I grew steadily more uncomfortable as the day went
on, didn't realize when I should have begged off and gone home
to lie down, and finally realized I had A Problem when the act
of getting off the couch I'd been sitting on turned out to be
excruciating. And that was despite having taken Ultram and
ibuprofen earlier in the evening.
(As it turned out, I didn't wind up doing any recording
after all. I lent my ears to the mixing process, and was
shown how to work the recording software, and Mike re-did
a couple of flute tracks. It was a productive day, just not
in the direction I'd been expecting when I got up.)
Getting into the car to go home was rather a bit of a
challenge, but I managed driving okay except for finding
left turns quite painful. I unloaded the car very slowly
and carefully, one item at a time, then went and took stronger
drugs. Between the pain itself whenever it was time to start
thinking about the next dose, and the way the drugs sometimes
throw my sleep cycle off, I'm not caught up on sleep, but
my back is noticeably better. I spent yesterday feeling
sleep deprived and feeling like I was taking a Lot Of
Drugs, but looking back at my notes I see that I actually
only took codeine twice yesterday; the other times were
Ultram and ibuprofen; I guess it felt like a lot because
I was so spacey from sleep deprivation? Anyhow, it was
clear that I wasn't driving anywhere yesterday; it was less
clear (until I tried it) that I also couldn't wash dishes.
(Yow, that hurt.) I tried to call my mother to wish her a
happy Mother's Day and apologize for not being able to
drop by (I'd originally intended to ask what her plans were
and whether I should visit), but I got her voice mail.
I left a message that I would try again later, but when I
finally did get some sleep I didn't wake up again until
after her bedtime. I feel like a bad son.
Today my head is still fuzzy in that "I've slept but I
haven't really slept" way. When I feel well
enough to drive I'll see about making my way to Arlington
and asking
anniemal to repair me. (Well, that'd
already been the plan -- the visit, not the repair -- before
I hurt myself.) I've got some furniture I need to move,
but I don't think it's moving this week (especially since
I want to move it to the third floor). I'm continuing to
explore this Visor thing in between bouts of being too
distracted by sleepiness or pain to concentrate. (Or even
by actual sleep, but that's not happening often
enough.)
It could be worse. I am feeling a whole lot
better than Saturday night, and I'm not having trouble
with the stairs. Now if I could just find the location
of that subwoofer that's been thumping for the past fifteen
minutes ... Hey, how hard would it be to build a sound-seeking
missile (akin to a heat-seeking one)? It wouldn't have to
be very large; just big enough to be sure of tearing the
speaker cone when it finds its target.