The past two days at work we've had no programs. Our presenter can't get out of his driveway because of all the ice. I spent almost two hours yesterday checking inventory and listening to Dune on tape. I can only listen to books for so long before my brain is slowly turns to mush.
The past three nights have gone as follows:
Round three in the morning I wake up and have to pee.
For the next three minutes or so I lay in my bed trying to calculate how badly I have to pee and weigh the pros and cons of getting up versus just falling back to sleep and possibly peeing my bed.
Eventually I get up, trying not to look at any clocks and head to the bathroom. My feet are cold because I don't like wearing socks to bed. I hate wearing socks, it feels like I'm suffocating my feet. I miss wearing flip flops everywhere.
The past three nights as I look out the bathroom window I've seen the salt truck passing down our street, it's lights flashing.
I then get back into my semi warm bed that has quickly grown colder and attempt to force myself back to sleep.
Then I notice my mouth is dry.
I take a drink of water.
My chest still hurts. The last two days whenever I breath I feel bruised like someone punched my chest from the inside.
I cough. Take a shot of my inhaler.
Wait, why is Whoomp There It Is stuck in my head?
The past three nights this dance has continued till an unspecified time when eventually I fall back into a fitful sleep. As I wake up a few hours later to my phone alarm I consider calling in sick. Or calling in sleepy. But, at last, I get out and make coffee.
Today my coffee is bad.
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