I was all psyched up to see a live performance of The Breakfast Club last weekend, one that included a very talented friend of John’s. What is it with me and plans? I honestly can’t remember the last time something I planned actually happened. *sigh* Anyway, I ended up watching the movie version Sunday night, and it was awesome (as always). It came out in 1985, and I was part of the class of 1984, so it really hits home for me. Especially since there’s a meeting tonight in Lexington I’ve been invited to attend to help plan my thirtieth high school reunion. We had one at ten, or maybe twenty, but I didn’t go. I loved high school like nobody’s business, but when it was over it was over. I don’t have my maiden name on my FaceBook page, and I only keep in touch (at all) with about a half-dozen of the six hundred people I graduated with. Three of those people were bridesmaids at my wedding. Weird, huh?
This being Shark Week, I couldn’t turn on the TV without catching Jaws at least once. The problem is, if I catch it early enough in the movie I have to watch until the “You’re gonna ned a bigger boat” line. It’s an OCD thing, I know, but I can’t help it. And while I was watching I noticed Richard Dreyfuss playing solitaire on the deck. With a pack of cards. How many years has it been since you’ve played solitaire with a pack of cards? Do you even have a pack of playing cards in your house?
There was some sort of country music show on this week – can’t remember the name of it, but it was at a football stadium in Nashville and it was awesome. I don’t need to keep track of when any country music awards shows or specials come on, because my mom always calls to tell me so I can set me DVR. Little Big Town had some college’s drumline on stage with them (couldn’t read their T-shirts to see whose) and was like, well, a Reece’s peanut butter cup. You’ve got country music, and that’s awesome, and you’ve got a marching band with a great drumline, and that’s awesome, but you put them together on the same stage and there’s just no word for it. I made John and Michael watch that part with me, but as neither are country music fans it wasn’t as exciting for them. I did text Aaron to look it up and watch it on You Tube a few days later – he had a better appreciation for it 🙂
The PGA Championship is here at Valhalla this weekend, so I’m taping coverage for Michael while he’s at work, and cheering for Rory McIlroy, my personal favorite golfer. He’s adorable, Irish, and his mom almost never watches him play the last day of a tournament because she gets so nervous. And Nike shoes are now allowed back in my house since he signed with them. I put a ban on all Nike apparel when Tiger was their big spokesperson. I could do a whole post about why I don’t like Tiger, but let’s just leave it at his attitude and behavior proving he has no place in a gentleman’s sport.
John went in early to marching band practice a couple of days this week because our carpool buddy needed to be there early. I thought it would be a great chance for John to get in some solo practice time, or to invite other bass drummers who needed help to meet him there early for practice. Of course when I asked him what he’d done with his extra time I found out he’d taken a nap behind the tubas. Seriously.
I think I have to accept that I have lain down my role as nurse and taken on that of patient. Yes, I do still have some useful information rattling around in my head, but a majority of it is outdated or incomplete. So what do I say when/if I show up at this thirty-year reunion that may or may not occur when people ask me what I do? I’d like to say I’m a writer. Can I finish one of my books and get it published before then? I dunno.
Here’s the actual ‘hot mess’ portion of my post. Because I had a horrific dental abscess and cracked tooth that required extraction earlier this month I used more of my pain pills than I normally do. Not more than I have prescribed, just more than I normally use. For some reason, the number of pills that can be prescribed every month is significantly fewer than what I might need. So it came down to the last week before I could get my next refill and I realized I didn’t have enough to get through. My dentist had offered multiple times to write a prescription for pain pills, which I refused. Kentucky law is adamant about patients on narcotic pain meds having them prescribed by only one doctor. Period. They will not fill a scrip from another doctor, and I strongly suspect that would be a good way to end up with no one willing to write me a scrip for pain pills. So I toughed it out. In case you’ve ever wondered, hydrocodone withdrawal (other than the excruciating pain) is like peri-menopause . . . times ten. I’ve been an evil bitch all week, my emotions are all over the place, and the hot flashes are so bad I’ve been tempted to sneak into a nearby restaurant’s walk-in cooler and just live there until Saturday morning.
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