Wednesday, January 25, 2006

If I Go to Bed Now, Do You Think I Can Sleep 'Til Morning?

I used to have this idea that I should avoid taking pain medication unless absolutely, completely necessary, for instance if I couldn't rise from a prone position or if I had a headache so piercing that I couldn't drive home from work. If I could shuffle along half-upright, that would do, and I'd just suffer through it with the patience of Job. I'd like to say right now, for the record: Sometimes I'm an idiot.

By five o'clock I knew I was sunk for the evening, that I'd cancel my usual Wednesday plans, that the very most I'd do would be to park it under the lamplight here at home. Besides my usual insomnia induced exhaustion, I had the strangest headache, which had wrapped itself slowly from neck to temples, a garland of ouch, please be quiet. I briefly considered stopping for wine, but was at least lucid enough to know that if I entered the store, it might be too much for me to actually choose a wine, and if I chose a wine, I might not feel like carrying it to the counter to pay for it, and if I did pay for it, chances were it would end up spending the night in the car, for I already had several parcels to bring upstairs (parcels! Someone's been reading too much nineteenth century literature!). So I skipped the wine and opted for ibuprofen, the severely untasty multi-grain saltines to prevent stomach upset, and a bath. The headache left while I was underwater, listening to the roar of someone else's plumbing use, and the tired is here, but not so achey anymore. I'll read a bit. I'll lie on the couch. And then, for once, I'll go to bed on time.

If I had my wish, someone else would bring me wine, would read me a story, would rub my head until I fall asleep. But Don Pedro, my imaginary Latin lover, is just that, imaginary, and so is absent tonight. I'll make do as usual with white noise, a second dose of ibruprofen, and a short story from one of my favorite volumes.

Goodnight, kids.


Shiz said...

I wish I could make Don Pedro real for you just for one night.

Raoul will not rub your head?

Sorry, Mary.

Canaan said...

mary dear, you need mommy treatment...wish I could've provided...

Jarod said...


marymuses said...

Shiz, Raoul has no hands, but I suppose he could use his nose?

Thanks for your kind thoughts, Canaan.

But don't worry, ladies, because someone did come to take care of me last night. I feel better, though still tired, today.

Jarod, :O) (That's a clown smiling; see the big nose?)

Anonymous said...

Stupid imaginary Latin lovers. They let you down EVERY TIME.

You should get an imaginary FRENCH lover instead.

Get better, M


marymuses said...

Oooh, if he's French, do you think I should call him Pierre?

Excellent idea to switch from Latin to French, I'd say. All the imaginary Latin lovers have been a little flaky, and it's time I move on.