This morning I woke up with a pain in my neck so sharp I could barely look at myself in the mirror while trying to get ready. It radiated down my back and legs, crippling my ability to stand fully straight causing me to limp in a way I would imagine a grisly troll or lame hobbit would walk. The pain and my general zombie-like skin color from being chronically dehydrated made me dead sexy, as in corpse like.
I shuffle around the bathroom, knocking over the stacks of skin care and $50 once ounce beauty oil products that have taken up residence on my counter, while trying to locate a clean towel to use for my shower. I immediately turn on the shower to the hottest setting and get in through the glass door, realize I have melted off the first layer of skin, and then jumping out of the shower. Carefully, I reassess the temperature of the water, now realize scalded skin can no longer detect heat. Accidentally end up taking cold shower.
While in the shower I attempt to shave my disgusting hobbit troll leg hair, however, I realize that my legs are too short to prop on the wall which makes it difficult (read: impossible). Temporarily, I considered sitting down on the shower floor and shaving my legs that way in the shower. After a few seconds of thinking it over, I decide to wait on shaving until I can go somewhere safer or have some assistance.
After rising my anti-dandruff shampoo and strengthening conditioner out of my hair, I turn off the water and go to dry off outside of the shower. I use 50-umpteen towels to dry off my flabby ass and sopping hair.
Next, I stood in my closet to pick out an outfit. I grab a shirt and begin looking for pants to match, forgetting what pants I was looking for when I see a skirt that I haven’t worn in ages. I put the shirt back and pick up the skirt, then I realized that I would have to shave my legs to wear the skirt so I put it back and start all over. Suddenly, I remember that I don’t have anywhere to go today. So, back to put my pajamas back on.
I brushed my teeth with exceptional vigor, noticing in the mirror every dark circle and red blemish on my face while counting the wrinkles forming around my eyes. Spontaneously, I decide to mix a handle of creams and concoctions and rub them on my face for “anti-aging”. I notice that I smell faintly like lavender and ben gay. I smile in the mirror, which somehow makes the pain in my back worse.
I have a pill organizer to keep up with my daytime and nighttime pills. This is both because of the sheer number of medications and also because I am basically 100 years old.
It takes a lot of chemistry to keep some of us steady and stable and from not crying hysterically in public every day. Some people need medicines for blood sugars, or to treat diseases, and some need medicines to keep their brain from self-destructing. Science is awesome. I remember that every single time I pick up my handful of pills and wash them down with diet coke (I am old and ornery).
Finally, I’m ready to start my day. Except that my dumb old brain can’t remember what to do first.