Here comes the cheese… “I’ve got the blues”. If you don’t know Alan Jackson music, you’ll have no clue. And because I can’t multitask, this post is going to be all over the place. Eating and writing don’t mix.
Winter blues suck. But instead of taking everyone into the depression pit with me today, I’ll just jump right into my weird ass dreams from last night.
An old college mate knocked on my door, very upset with me because I’ve cut him off, and he decided to take me and a couple of my friends out for some drinks and karaoke – in Canada. Why he chose Canada is beyond me. Maybe because the bars open early? I have no idea. But we were way too early, so we got a hotel room, and ordered a few drinks and some pizza into the room.
But then everyone disappeared, an I was suddenly alone in the hotel room with Drew Barrymore, speculating about where everyone had gone, and why. And because my friend insisted I go out in the first place, I hunted him down, and found him at the bar with one of my best friends, eating all the pizza without me. Apparently he didn’t want to hear my explanation or apology.
Transition to a completely different segment, and I’m at my uncle’s house, where there was a huge family reunion going on, and everyone and their brother were there. It was insane! Even people I didn’t know were there. My guess is because it was a pig roast, and my uncle was supervising the cooking process of 3 fricken pigs. Pig roasts are awesome, and I miss them. I couldn’t get enough pig in my dream. I just kept eating shredded pork.
Meanwhile, in between dreams, I kept sitting up with burning neck, shoulder, arm and hand pain. Something is seriously pinched and probably herniated again, but I’m too stubborn to call the chiropractor. It doesn’t matter that I can’t feel half of my fingers. I’m broke, and my insurance sucks.
Something will give/release soon. Hopefully…