I had a killer weekend planned as I was taking Friday off work, then going over to Memphis on Saturday with a buddy to catch some beer, football, food and 3 metal bands. Friday was just to be a goof off day. This is not how things went.
First I injured my neck somewhere along the way, pinched nerve between my C5 and C6, so I was doing a bit of physical therapy and taking some anti-inflamatories and steroids last week, then along comes an infection on a root canal I had done way back, so add hydrocodone and antibiotics to the mix. Plus pain. Lots.
So by Thursday night we're at Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" at the Rep that I'd been wanting to see and about intermission the pain starts to really kick. When I get home I pop a hydrocodone and hit the sack. By Friday morning I'm getting groggy. By Friday afternoon it's cold sweats followed by hot flashes followed by curling up on a fetal position on the couch whining like a baby. And yakking. My guts up.
Friday's shot, Saturday get's cancelled.
I recover by Sunday afternoon just in time to not really remember much about the weekend and see the Cards get killed.
And I don't remember much about Friday, and little about Saturday, but I know they sucked.
But I didn't croak. So whatever. I guess I'll make up for it.
Dammit.
