Excursion in Painkillers

I rose from slumber and rushed to the bathroom this morning, the COL- CHICINE still working strong. I ran into the first stall in the bathroom to find a sliver of toilet tissue on one of the two rolls, the other roll was spent. Fine, I went to the second stall, both rolls spent, the same with the third. What the fuck?? How many asses had to be wiped last night! I dive into the first stall and go to town. World War Three broke out in that motherfucker. To someone standing outside it must have sounded like a fucking fistfight broke out inside the stall. That's just how violent my bathroom excursions have been. Then I had to ration toilet tissue to wipe my ass, but I got the job done.

I checked the paper towels to see if there was enough for a second go at the toilet in the near future. There was some, but at the rate that these guys use them, it would probably not last. I thought to take the roll with me to my bed, but then thought against it. I would most likely be caught with it and written up. I'd just take my chances. I crawled back into bed and fell fast asleep.

In the morning it felt as if an elephant had slept on my shoulder. Maybe it was my own tremendous weight, but my arm was dead. There was so much pain that it was stuck in one position, like someone had glued it to my side. Well, at least my toe didn't hurt. It just gave me a little twinge here and there but there was no real pain. I got up and set up my baby and believe it or not, began to blog. I blogged until it was time to go upstairs and get my meds. That's where I copped my beloved TRAMADOL and downed those fuckers with pleasure. I tell you, in no time I had the pain on the run. But in equally no time the TRAMADOL had me in bed, snoring like a bull out out to pasture.

I awoke around lunchtime and did what I normally would not do in the Box. Eat a meal. Surprisingly they had Salisbury Steak, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables; and in fact, either I was very hungry from skipping breakfast and lunch, or somebody downstairs in the kitchen knew what they were doing, but it was good.

I wolfed down dinner and then went back into the dorm, full, and contented. The meal even settled the general nausea in my stomach from the TRAMADOL. I got online for a spell IMing and emailing before calling it quits for the second time and went back to bed. The TRAMADOL is just that strong.

"HOBOBOB!" I awoke to Mr. Franklin calling down at me. "Did you get your meds?" No, I scramble out of bed. You see, that's the love affair that I now have with my TRAMADOL. I'm totally dependent on it to get by. My shoulder is starting to ache, but nothing like in the mornings, which I'm beginning to dread.

Now I sit on the edge of my bed, ruminating on my day tomorrow. I've got to get up and take a shower, and a shave and find some relatively clean slacks. I have clean shirts that I have to press from the bag of clothes that my friend gave to me and my brother. The shirts came in handy because I needed some for the office. Tomorrow morning will be the biggest hump for me though, because the painkiller would have worn off by then, and I'll have to do everything on my To Do List at a disadvantage. Not a fair turn of events but one that I must deal with in the sum total of things I guess.

I finish blogging and then hit the sack.

Hobobob