There was a light rain this morning, of which I became aware because of the yellowish-tint of light that came through the bedroom window. Unless there’s a serious thunderstorm with blackened clouds to block out the light, daytime rain always seems to give the sky a weak yellow glow.
It didn’t wake me, though. No, that was the piercing pain in my back. I still haven’t gone to see anyone for that, and as a result it seems to have become slightly more sharp and a lot more uncomfortable. I’m tired of popping Tylenol PM caplets every evening like they’re Tic-Tacs, but I hate visiting physicians even more. If I want to have my requests ignored, I can think of a few other places to be – like Dunham’s Sporting Goods, where the staff will ignore you like there’s no tomorrow. Last night was an odd one: the pain and my inability to find a position that would allow me just an iota of sleep both gave way to a series of distressing dreams and night sweats. I just wanted to stay home. Maybe stay in bed with the covers drawn close and the lights out.
With that said, I really expected the day to be a bit of a waste. I’m certainly in no mood to interact with the world at large, and with the overcast skies, that might not be an option, anyway. But it cleared up and I was determined to do something positive. I’d gone on quite a tear last week, spending Tons-O-Money™ – much of which I really don’t have to spend right now – so if nothing else, I wanted to stay home and away from either sales or cash registers. Alas, this was not to be. And so, after a breakfast consisting of coffee and a pair of maple-flavored sausage links, and three episodes of Law and Order, I decided to do something.
In this case, I went for a ride. Picked up a can of paint and a package of peanut butter sandwich cookies from Target. An odd pairing, to be sure, but I needed the paint and if Target can’t do anything else right, at least they sell the best peanut butter sandwich cookies on the planet. A stop at Hobby Lobby showed me that – apparently – August is not too early to stock Christmas items, and the drive home showed me that some people think that 12 inches between your car and theirs is too much wasted space.
Not much, eh? Certainly not enough to fill a whole day. But I take my victories where I get them. My back still hurts and I’m tired. But I didn’t give in to this morning’s depressive impulse, so that’s something.