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My perscription weed...

Remember that Seinfeld episode where Jerry wants the pen that can write upside down (the kind they use in space) so that when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a bit, he can write it down while lying in bed and remember it in the morning?

I see where he's coming from. I have had a million and one things to write about lately and yet when I finally get the time to do so, it all escapes me. After tossing and turning for over 2 hours the other night, I finally fell asleep. I was just gettin' to those good rems when I woke up in a haze and laughed to myself about a blog-tastic idea. Then of course I went back to drooling and even with the help of an astronaut pen probably wouldn't have made it to the nightstand to write it down.

All I remembered the following morning was my half asleep creepy giggle. My lack of writing issue has been compounded by the fact that I feel like I've gone through the past 3 months completely baked. Yes, I feel high all....the...time. I mentioned this in a little ditty about an OBecian laundry sesh at the beginning of summer.

This "high" I refer to is all due to my meds. When I say that out loud, or write it in this case, I can't help but get a picture of myself in a stark white room freakishly yelling "My meds! Where are my MEDS! Someone get me my MEDS!" This actually isn't too far off at times. These little pills I take are supposed to prevent me from getting what Dr. Janine, my neurologist, calls Ocular Migraines. I don't know how confident I feel in a Doctor who has me refer to her as "Doctor" and then her first name, but I'm going to look past it, especially since when I get these "OM's" I can't look anywhere...my vision is completely blurred and my head feels like it's about to explode! I've been trying out what feels like prescription weed for the duration of the summer and now that school is back in sesh am very aware of the side effects. Apparently I didn't have too many cognitive challenges this summer...aside from counting tips and figuring out how to use a foreign vacuum.

Yesterday after school I had plans to run with a fellow teacher. I went into the staff bathroom, never ceasing to make me feel like a real adult, and began to change out of my work outfit and into some running gear. In a daze, which has become my usual state, I put on my sports bra, shirt, socks and shoes. Seems like your average workout gear...except for the very important PANTS! Oh yea. Slipping those Lycra bad boys over giant Asics is fun. After catching myself on the protective toilet sheet dispenser so as not to crash to the tile floor (imagine the germs!) I open the bathroom door and walk outside only to notice that in this process of getting the pants over the shoes I have ripped what used to be a tiny hole into an extremely noticeable hole in the upper/inner thigh of my running pants, which happen to double as my yoga pants! I exhale dramatically and nod in disgust...what a stoner.
Silver lining: I didn't have to run that day.

All that to say, I have had many a story to tell...but simply have FORGOTTEN them. I guess I'll have to start writing everything down, while I'm awake at least. I'm willing to make accommodations for my less-than-lightening-quick mind, but disrupting my sleep is a whole 'nother level of commitment. Who knows, I may nerd out and become one of those teachers that has a pencil in their ear at all times. Though I often wonder about them....what is it you have to write that is so urgent it requires a writing implement that readily available? Now I know. Maybe they too are victims of prescriptions that cause side effects like those of my own...or maybe they're just high?

Comments

Rowdy said…
if it was that small of a hole, you should have ran anyway. no one would know...

and try bikram yoga!
oh it was not small at all! getting from the bathroom to the outside would've caused quite a stir among junior highers!

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