so sedated in 2013-2014

Yesterday I was mad that my parents were late paying the phone bill, so I didn't have a functioning phone at all, and didn't find out until my call to Aaron was rerouted to financial services. So I went to the fitness center, mailed some bills, and then took it out on the treadmill. After warming up, I went at my fastest sustainable pace to songs like Sick of It and I Miss the Misery and it was glorious. I did 4.61 miles in 65 minutes. Another record. And I only walked... two or three times. I did stop a few times to stretch my feet and hamstrings as they tightened, but that doesn't count.

Then we went to the 30 Seconds to Mars/Linkin Park concert. A bunch of things conspired to make us late, mostly the weather. We ran into five slow-down torrential rainstorms on the way, so we missed... 50-75% of 30STM. But we did see and hear enough to vow that next time, we'll be up front, and just have living wills prepared beforehand. We got a crowd singalong to The Kill and Hurricane, and they closed with pulling up a bunch of people to the stage and doing... Closer to the Edge, I think. I saw at least two Ukrainian flags amongst the 30STM flags, which was beautiful. One even got on stage.

LP was great, even with the girl behind us creaming herself every three minutes before the show. OH MAH GAWD CHEESSTERRR! every time his face was shown on the screen for ads promoting albums and merch. Aaron couldn't handle it. Don't you ever say my name like that! I love watching Linkin Park. They're so energetic and they have a plan, and they pack as many notes and drum beats into their allotted time as humanly possible, even doing creative mashups. No talking. No engaging the crowd, aside from the occasional mic-point-singalong. The crowd was so loud it drowned out Chester and Mike on occasion. The venue was anti-fire, unfortunately, but the LED screens were so cool. It's the one place a white girl can feel comfortable rapping alongside a half-Japanese guy with big glasses. Aaron stood behind me as we swayed and hugged and yelled and raised our arms, and afterward, when the roar in our ears had faded some and we could sort of, hoarsely, speak, I said, "that's the kind of dancing we do. We can't do that at the wedding though, and anything else would feel cheap."

Afterward, though... it took about 30 minutes to get out of the parking lot, and my entire face hurt. My jaw was screaming, hammering nails from the back of my neck to my temple, and my neck was fatigued after looking up for so long. And we had been in a rush, so, like total amateurs, we forgot munchies, drinks, and painkillers. At least the pot smoke was blown away on the breeze and I was spared that migraine. We got briefly lost outside Charlotte because we stopped, and the the highway signs reversed from Inner-South to Inner-North, we lost five miles, and we had no freaking idea which way was up. I managed something slack-jawed and pain-garbled about how it's a loop so the directional signs reverse eventually, and he looked at me like I was crazy.

We stopped for gas and while Aaron pumped, I went inside for the bathroom, then to get a large caffeinated beverage, overpriced ibuprofen, and a slice of banana bread to ward off the sour stomach. Three Advil and a major seat adjustment later, Aaron was passed out in the passenger seat and I was speeding down I-77 as the pain decreased enough for me to speak and move my jaw. It was so bad. And then of course driving stiffened my neck more, to the point where it spasmed when I looked over my shoulder before passing. That was my major stretching, since I passed like... everybody. Slow going last night, with the usual company of overnight truckers stuck at a roaring 65mph. But it didn't rain! I had perfect conditions and an easy drive, shooting the breeze with Jesus. I love late-night trips like that.

3am. I started flagging. I changed the music to something faster and louder. I prayed for energy. I looked behind me, since I was mid-pass, and HOLY CRAP SOMEONE'S HEADLIGHTS ZOOMING INTO MY TAILLIGHTS. I moved over immediately and the white Honda shot past at... at least 90. I'm awake!

We got home at 3:30. Aaron took his shirt off but didn't make it to his belt before collapsing on my bed. I took Sheppy out and took some Flexeril. I fucking love that drug. It's a muscle relaxer. I have the 10mg dose. I let that sink in and I have had a delightfully loose and painfree, if not exceptionally lethargic, day. I took two naps, one with Aaron after work. Geez. But my neck is perfect. My exhausted legs, which protested hills and stairs last night from Achilles tendon to glutes, don't mind a thing. My jaw is clicking and still a bit stuck, but completely painless. 25 hours ago I couldn't even talk.

I LOVE THIS DRUG.

The downside is that it's... a downer, proper, and I've spent my waking time looking around the Internet in unguarded dismay. Everything just seems so... sad and empty. I've only really 'woken up' at like... 9pm (drug lasts forever), so now it's 11:30 and I'm sitting around wondering why everything's seemingly gone to hell. Even my goofball cat gnawed her loose nail too far and made herself bleed a bit.

This is not the night to read about Croats and Serbs massacring each other, or editing articles on Russia's violation of Ukraine. This is the night to find something fun and mindful and with a few nutritional vices to go along with it. (As long as it doesn't involve chewing. Oatmeal? Someone bring me cheese grits.)