Monday’s head cold [Delay] kicked my ass. My brilliant medical advisor came home with Sudafed for pressure and pain. Sweet relief. I could move.
On the other hand, I over-react to drugs in amusing ways. Percocet has made me paranoid. Pain-killers have made me hysterical. A half-dose of Sudafed left me without the will to do … to do … anything. I bailed on my riding lesson. I scheduled the show posts then staggered back to bed. I spent most of last week sitting in dark rooms, playing video games, and listening to Terry Pratchett audio books. This would have been a delightful vacation in the garden of sloth, except for that still, small voice:
What are you DOING? You have WORK. The house is a dump. The DISHES are taking over the sink. How about the horses? You remember horses? Okay, Rodney is on the slow plan. However, you have a NICE horse who is ready NOW. Get your sorry self out to the barn. Do SOMETHING. Do I have to remind you that life is SHORT? Do you realize how much of a HASH you are making out of the opportunities so generously piled in front of you?
I would never talk to another person the way I talk to myself.