There Will Be Whining

It's been a one-Vicodin day, but not without some effort.

Took the boys to the bus stop this morning; it was snowing lightly. Came home and didn't quite feel like going back to sleep, didn't quite feel like staying awake. Did the next-best thing and sat down with The Complete Tightwad Gazette for some ideas. Which, while good, promptly put me back to sleep.

Woke up just in the nick of time for an 11a physical terrorism session. Range of motion is slowly getting better, but I've just got no strength left in my right arm. My left arm isn't doing so well, either, but that's mostly because it's being used for the first time in 44 years. Anyway, the one Vicodin (so far, anyway), is a good sign, I think.

Really, I've had maybe three or four very, very bad nights in the last month -- the kind where you're looking for a .38 to chase your oxycodone -- and one was the night after the operation. The last bad night was earlier this week, when a muscle decided to spasm for a few hours.

Got home after the therapy, quick grocery run, hardware store stop, chicken egg dropoff and post office check. There was a long, long line of cars heading south in the snow; it's been winter break time in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey, so the tourists were doing what tourists do, and going home in the worst possible weather.

Wiped out beyond belief when I got home ... which meant it was time for my boss to call and check on how I'm feeling and when I can get back to work. I'm hoping I didn't sound like a total drooling crack-monkey on the phone.

But speaking of crack: I'm hooked on The Wire. I need to find the first four seasons. And this is one of the most creative blogs I've ever seen -- on the NY Times site! Who knew? Anyway, check it out. How cool is that?

Book reviews tomorrow, assuming a certain level of ambulatory-ness. Maybe not so cool.