Creating While Stoned

I don’t recommend it.

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

I still can’t get used to the sensation. Yesterday was all about the ‘I don’t know why people would want to feel like this on purpose’ thing. It’s bad enough that I spend each day mentally and emotionally disconnected from myself and the world around me. But now this too? Wow. Just wow.

Here’s the irony — I don’t know how to feel about it. My face feels as though someone could slap me and I wouldn’t feel it. Anyone who knows me knows not to test the theory, however.

But today? Today I’m starting to get it. I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs so this whole pain killer pill thing is as foreign to me as the Greek language. I haven’t a clue here. I’ve had access to this medication since some time last year. I would take one here or there when the pain got to the point where I wanted to cry but didn’t because I was too exhausted to shed a tear.

I took the first one on Friday. I can take one every twelve hours. In twelve hours, I had taken three before it finally started to work. Sleep. Blissful sleep. I wake up and the pain is tolerable. But then I have no appetite. My mind is still functional enough, barely, to know that I have to eat. Especially if I’m going to pop this med. Luckily I had stocked the place with easy to make and easy to eat foods. Thank all that is holy for Just Crack an Egg. (If you…