The Obscure

I can't sleep a wink, and I can't eat or drink, and I'm fightin' not to call you my baby.

That isn't a song, but it should be. In fact, it now is, and it is entitled: "What pops into my mind at 1 a.m. while I am walking towards the computer in a clonodine-muddled stupor."
Yeah, that sounds about right.
I'm out of pain pills, and my head hurts very badly. Everything I took earlier has now worn off, and I would steal some of Lena's vicadyn except it takes a lot of vicadyn to work for me and she doesn't really have that much. If my mom was still up I would have her drive me to the hospital to get a shot of demerol; because the pain is getting steadily worse. I wish I could sleep, I knew I shouldn't have had that espresso at the Engley's. Stupid doctor, cutting my dosage in half. He should be aware of the massive withdrawal I am going to have because he did that. I have to call him and talk to him about this, because I can't go for the rest of this thirty day period without painkillers, especially with the cluster I am having now, these are the worst headaches I've ever had. They've made me cry, and I haven't cried, because of physical pain at least, since I cut my hand when I was eight. It's bad, bad shit man. The worst thing about it is that once it gets going, pain-pills usually don't stop it, unless you take a really large dose. You have to anticipate the horrible 3 hour long chunk of terrible pain that spurts out of your chronic pain like an awful geyser, take a dose that would kill an ox before it actually starts, then you can stave it off for a while. That's what I did today, except now I'm out of stuff, and the headache is coming.
Once it's here, there will be no chance of sleep, and the worst of it is about twenty minutes away. I've already lost the majority of my eyesight and motor skills, if I tried to walk right now I'd be like a one-eyed man with cataracts and no feet trying to navigate a complicated maze; and if such a man existed and he and I were to race through the complicated maze, I'd lose. It's a sorry state I'm in, I'm lucky that my typing skills have gotten so it is more like thinking onto a page than it is actually using my hands. If I was actually using my hands you would just be getting a bunch of the junk that Becca types when she is aggravated. You know, "asdklfjfj;alskdjfl" or whatever. Crazy old Becca.

I actually am losing control of my hands now, even though it doesn't feel like I'm using them. This is a short paragraph but it is taking forever to type it because I keep fucking up. I'm sorry this whole thing ended up being about my headache, it's just all that is on my mind right now. Bada chish!
Anyway, goodnight/morning ladies and gents. I got goddamn fucking work tomorrow, lucky me!