apathy stew

I woke up at five this morning. I ate breakfast, washed my hair (big commitment in the morning), stopped for coffee, took the light rail (and then the bus) to work and had every intention of completing my day. My bus driver said, "Good morning, stranger!" to me. He remembered me! When I was car-less, I'd bring him a blueberry muffin every Wednesday morning. Then I got a car and dropped RTD services like a hot potato. They put in a new shelter at the stop--that was nice to see. Now all they need to do is heat it. Oh, and put in a french bistro next door. There is a new Starbucks across the street. Not nearly the same as a bistro but oh, how things change in three months. Anyway, I made it halfway through the day. Around lunchtime is when I was told to go home. I kept reinjuring myself by walking into door frames and walls and stuff. I think I made everyone nervous; they told me to take the week off. I took the bus back to school, which is where I transfer to the light rail. Once on campus, however, I was able to guilt myself into going to the library to research Colorado Senate Bill 00-186 (school report cards...sigh. I shan't get started on my frustration). I ran into Erin who wanted me to go listen to Michael Moore give some talk tonight but I sensed that gun control and its surrounding politics were not part of the healing aura my co-workers had in mind when they sent me home today. I am 0 for 3 this week in classes. Tonight was the only one that I regret missing because he makes us write essays if we miss class. Eh.

My reliance on pain killers vexes me. I am irritable and incoherent when I am taking them, albeit pain-free (save for when I walk into doorways. The pain killers do nothing for the sting). When I don't take them, I am fully coherent, amiable and consumed with gut-wrenching pain. I was able to get my research done, though punctuated with the occasional "ow. ow. ow." On the ride home, I chatted amicably with a girl about France and French and Je Ne Sais Quel Autre. Were I doped up, I could have managed maybe a "Huh?" with a Parisienne sneer and toss of my hair. I don't know how drug addicts do it. It's driving me crazy. I need the hurt to stop.