My little brother turns 39 tomorrow. Damn. Just f’ing damn. Not that I am a LOT older than he is but today has just been one of those days. Actually it’s been one of those weeks.
I quit smoking two weeks ago today. It’s been pretty fucking difficult and still is pretty difficult. I know it will get easier but am still waiting.
Right around the time I quit I also got sick as hell with a pretty bad head cold. I thought for a couple of days that I had come down with the flu even though I knew better. I doctored myself up with Zicam, NyQuil, Mucinex and Synutab and muddled through a few days until I thought I was over it. So much for that.
For a few days now I’ve been feeling dizzy and lightheaded. At first I thought it was just from not smoking anymore and then for the last day or two I was afraid that perhaps my blood pressure was fucked. While I have always had great BP, when the wife quit smoking her’s all of a sudden got funky and they had to put her on medication to regulate it.
Thank goodness it wasn’t either of the above, but more on that later.
While I was on vacation I saw the eye doctor who decided it was time for bifocals. The results are now in…
It’s a crappy webcam photo but you get the general idea. I think I look pretty fucking good actually. Now I just have to get used to the got-damned things. I did get the transitions so I won’t have to worry about swapping to sun-glasses when I drive, which will be nice.
I picked them up after my meeting this evening and then paid a visit to the local doc in the box to get looked at for the dizziness.
As the wife suspected, I have an ear infection. They prescribed a 10-day course of antibiotics and the doctor also offered to jump start it with a shot. What the hell, I figured. Anything to get rid of this a bit faster. How wrong I was.
A short while later the nurse comes back in with TWO syringes and says, “did doctor say you would be getting two shots?”
One shot, two shots, what’s the difference anyway.
I pull up my shirt sleeve and the nurse just shakes her head at me. Those things were meant for my ass apparently.
I followed her directions and dropped trou, leaning up against the bed thing whilst she jabbed me once in each hip, telling me during the first one “don’t scrunch, it only hurts more.”
I’m sorry but I am here to tell you that when you get pointy things near my ass I’m all about getting all scrunchy and flexy so as to protect the old poop chute.
So here I sit on my sore ass. I’ll be heading to bed soon if I can’t find any degenerates to post about at the crime site.