Once again, I'm feeling apathetic disconnect from the world which translates into some internal unease. Unlike most times this happens, I'm not much bothered by it, which paradoxically, makes me more uneasy in an objective, rational way. Usually, I get a bug in my ass and do something about it. Now, I just don't care enough to gear up for something. My innate sense of discontent will kick in soon and I'll, uh, got to Bangkok or something.
In more tangible news, my back has been killing me. I'm getting it stretched and fixed so it hurts in the mean time. Last week, it hurt enough for me to call my doctor's office and plead for some temporary relief. Rolaids came in the form of Tylonol 3, a relatively(!) weak narcotic. That was enought to dull the pain, but after four days of it, I found myself rather nauseous. For some reason, one day, they wouldn't hit me and the next day I'm babbling and staring beyond space. Thankfully, my back feels better.
In more culturally-oriented drug abuse news, my bottle of Nouvelle-Orleans arrived in the mail last week. I'm not sure how much more will be brewed in the near future as the distiller is based in New Orleans. I have not yet tried it, since it was not cheap and I need a good occasion to do so (refer to paragraph 1 as to why this may be a while). Perhaps New Years Eve. I bet Sophie would love it!
Anyway, I need to wash Cheeto residue off of my fingers.
EW! Cheetos, that's just wrong. I think the Cheetos are causing your ennui. Definitely.
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