Eat With Pills

I didn’t have a problem waking up, but I was hurting by mid-afternoon. Adding a muscle relaxer to my fatigue didn’t help in the lively department, but the parade in my honor and the black-tie lunch did.

Reality check: it was like I’d never left. Sure I missed a few meetings but nothing really changed. Holy stagnation, Batman. You can't sit but you can sort of run.

I rigged my desk to be more standing-friendly: my keyboard on two reams of paper and my mouse on a tissue box. The mouse falls but the keyboard is pretty steady. I’m sure it’s ergonomically correct. I did forget how heavy all the damn security doors are. Everywhere I go it’s a struggle. That’s where my workman’s comp will come from: crossing the Chinese Wall.

red blue and green salad

arugula

beets

red onion

blue cheese

croutons

balsamic vinegar

olive oil

black pepper

Combine all ingredients. Serve soon as dressing wilts greens.

Eat with a small roll and a big drink you’ll be fine with a pill.

Alt: go to a salad bar and have them mix it up for you

We attacked my QL in PT. Literally. The PT took her elbow to my side and back. It was quite painful. She stood over me while I lay semi-nakedly on my left side and she dug into my right side with her boney elbow. I actually winced, then screamed.

She told me I should try to sit for 20, stand for 10. And she reminded me to sit all the way back in my chair; I tend to sit forward; the arms of my chair hold me away from my desk. And I even have a new, smaller chair. I think only bigger people actually sit all the way back.

Getting out of bed was a chore. Maybe I took my flexeril too late and didn’t sleep it off or, maybe it’s that my bedroom and bathroom are cold though it’s near 60ْ outside.

My commute has officially gone from miserable to horrifying. There should be a law that people with disabilities (me) are only allowed on subways and stairwells when it’s not rush-hour. I hate everyone.

My attitude stayed bad until mid-afternoon. After a little more than one day I already want out. Reminder to self: it’s better to be lonely at home than unhappy anywhere else.

Had some tuna - I smashed up a can, added a little mayo, red onion and tarragon - and a slice of pumpernickel for lunch. And many goldfish, a great surprise, an unopened package in my drawer.

I did more sitting today. My desk set-up is not great for sitting. My spine feels okay. My pelvic bones feel bruised. Don’t know how that is possible. Maybe it’s the joints. I am going to be one happy and comfortable senior.

creamy spinach penne

4-6 oz whole wheat penne rigate

4 oz frozen spinach

1.5 TB butter

1/3 cup milk

parmesean cheese, freshly grated, to taste (I like a lot, like maybe 1/3 cup)

red pepper, to taste

black pepper, to taste

Cook pasta according to package directions - with about 3 minutes to go, drop in the spinach - drain and reserve. In a medium saucepan over medium-low, melt butter. Add milk and pasta/spinach. Combine. The “sauce” will not be as thick as you want. Turn off the heat and allow the mixture to rest while you grate the cheese and grind the pepper. Stir the mixture. It should be somewhat thicker after a few minutes. Add cheese and peppers. Serve immediately.

Alt: peas in place of or in addition to spinach

9pm bedtime makes for an unfulfilling day - I need to do more than work and sleep. Especially that work.

I finished sleeping while it was still dark but stayed in bed anyway. My side feels better, less annoying, now just tender and semi-achey. Sleep is good. My new habit, in place of morning coffee, is a pint of ruby red grapefruit juice. I wonder what that will do to me. Acidity+pills=? Is this a GRE question? I don't know since I haven't been studying.

Today we realized that someone stole my small chair and I’ve been using a regular one. Idiot! We switched and now I actually can use the whole seat and sit back. Amazing. My feet aren’t even dangling. Of course I have to remind myself to sit back. Looking around the floor I notice that hardly anyone sits all the way back.

I’m standing and sitting all day. Flexeril is good. Makes me a bit dopey and slow but my muscles like it. And B loves the dopey, slow me. Too bad he’s away and can’t enjoy it and too bad I couldn’t go as I’m afraid to get on a plane, be belted in, no way to get up or escape.

Tonight is the Tree Lighting. That should really improve my commute. Speaking of which, how come no one cares when a large person is taking up two seats or half the aisle but I get dirty looks when I'm carrying a large bag stuffed with bubble wrap? It's discrimination, just like all the chairs being too big. Who asked for one-size-fits-all? Not me. Criminy!

This is getting very bloggy. I'm concerned about that. I could go on and on about the mundane details of my being (how I hate nicole kidman and tom cruise, together or individually; how titanic is the worst movie of all time; how verizon thinks my phone isn't broken enough to replace it; how I'm now addicted to ground beef and had to get a burger from the Cobble Grill) but who wants to read that? So I've taken one naproxen and one flexiril to see if they can access my creativity. I'm sure it will turn on as soon as I stop spinning. And by spinning I mean, I just poured boiling water from the kettle on my fingers, somehow missing the mug and the teabag for which it was intended. And I think I like Shakira.

When was that night the air smelled like maple syrup? It was more than a month ago. They announced it on NY1 the day after and said 311 had calls from all over Manhattan and the Bronx. So I called in myself to represent.

Me: (thinking about all that safe computer+people dust we breathed in after September 11th) Oh. Well, I was just calling to let you know that we could smell it in Brooklyn too. I thought it was my neighbor concocting some sort of potion upstairs.

Me: Damn would that make a good Batman - I should write that. Or save it for when I take over the world: PillGirl Releases Sweet Smelling Poison Into Gotham's Air Space. Maybe I'm CandyGirl in that case. Though pills aren't candy.

Forty days and nights later and I can finally be somewhat social. How biblical. Went to hear a great singer, actually two, paired up with a fantastic pianist and another backup on guitar/tambourine/maraca, etc. Sitting and standing in a packed house was manageable for me. Even survived a light beer or three. So no evening pills for this girl which was a tough decision as I was beat-up from more elbow to the side PT. But I did sleep. Residual Flexeril is better than none at all. I plan to do everything in my power to keep at least trace Flexeril in my system forevermore. I love it. It's better than Ambien for sleeping and better than any other drug for comfort. Interesting to note that when I last took it for my shoulder/neck it was not as effective. My PT said it really is meant for lower back. Who knew drugs were so specific? That impresses me. Hard to think I shouldn't help pay for the cost of research and development of drugs as amazing as this one. See, told you I wasn't liberal.

Anyway, who's better than adrian brody hiding in a cold empty warehouse? Josh Dodes. Check him out here. And I don't know Rosi's site (my friend H accurately noted a Cranberries sound to her voice) but you can find Mariana (Ani Difranco came to mind) here. And while I'm at it, I really should mention some other significant music in my life: click.