I just swallowed a tablespoon of cherrytussin...with codeine. Mind you, the prescribed dose is one teaspoon, but that didn't touch me last night. So we play the waiting game until my throat decides to be relaxed and not gasp for air by the incessant tickle.
Ok, I just felt the tickle, twice. This drug isn't playing nice. There's a dry cough, loud, non productive, and uncomfortable. Ugh! This is going to be a looong night. Sleeping on the couch, sitting straight up, 45 degrees up. Sucking on throat drops and trying to avoid sleeping and sucking and choking. Didn't mom always say not to fall asleep with food in my mouth? Or was that no smoking in bed? I would like to announce that coughing while sleeping is not allowed either.
Going to work in 7 hours...on no sleep most likely. So how to spend my awakening is all I need to figure now. Reading "She's Come Undone" for the second time. Interesting novel about an obese young woman who experiences lots of death, sex, eating, drugs, looking for something. Sounds familiar, hmmm. I'm at the part where the whale awakens her... will she lose weight and feel positive about herself? Will she accept that her mother wasn't an angel, even though she's dead. How will seven years in and out of a sanatorium settle this woman's indigestion? Does she ever succeed at suicide, or anything? The most incredible part of this book is the gender of it's author...a guy wrote this and you'd never know it. Not a clue. After all, men can write, can't they? discuss amongst yourselves...
A friend of mine blogs too. He, yes a man writer, is new to the public blog scene. Kudos for your bravery man. Deep thoughts aren't easiest sorted out in front of everyone in the world and their brother! I'm a chicken. Bok Bok! Uh oh, I just updated fb to say I'm blogging. Maybe people will think I'm practicing a European sport or something...flogging? That's painful, isn't it? I'm thinking of stoning, like in the Bible at Mary Magdalene, the whore. Or the daily ritual of my former self from 1982-1989...stoning the days and nights away, listening to the Dead and Yes and trippy Genesis. Thank God for music.
I ordered tons of albums from the Columbia Music Club and everyone wanted to tape my selections. Trying to refill my stash now with cd's and itunes has proven a bit costly. Inflation and all, 30 years later. I spent hours with my albums and their covers and the liner notes and lyrics. The first obsession was the Elton John greatest hits that my babysitter listened to on our child-size record player while hand writing all the lyrics for me. I lay on the floor next to her as she reset the needle to stay in line with her pen. I kept those lined papers filled with Bernie Taupin's ideas until I knew each song and its meaning for me. I think I was 8 or 9 years old.
My dad actually gave me my first two albums. The aforementioned EJ and the Beatles...can't remember which title. I see the four faces, short hair, smiling. I hear the choppy, upbeat songs about dancing and loving and girls and boys. You know, the important stuff.
pause for more dry hacking, cursing of codeine, water refill, slippers and sweatshirt...and fb updating.
...a bit light headed now, must be my high tolerance lowering.
Cool observations and thoughts had on my break:
My Morning Jacket has a diverse style of sound. I hear traces of country, Prince, folk, and of course r & r. I love their lyrics about sexy librarians and peanut butter pudding, and screaming for human touch, twice. "Touch me or I'm going to scream!!" How they read my mind like that, I'll probably never know...
(Come on it's a big, big world now...you gotta' like what you see!) I do!
I see my hot water turning a pleasant shade of raspberry. Passion is my tea's flavor name, labeled as such on what I would call an "ad bag." Clearly spaced phrases, describing the infusion d'herbes, sans caffeine, 1 sachet (French for those of you who took german or spanish in hs). Sounds like I'm steeping a bag of pot pourri. Wait I am! the ingredients include hibiscus, lemongrass, and rose hips. Hot and smooth on my throat...works for me.
Switched to U2, on shuffle.
starting to feel my arms relaxing, my eyelids too. 2 and 1/2 hours to relax my limbs and the tickle lies patiently, waiting to attack. At least I'm not interrupting the rest of my family's sleep with my breathing battle.
