Mondays suck!

Mondays are still evil.
Mondays still suck.
Mondays should still be abolished.

Mood: pained
Weather: who cares for the fucking weather?!
Eating: my 10th and 11th Vicodin today
Drinking: black coffee with sugar
Listening to: my fist thumping the desk

I'm trying to distract myself by writing right now.
Ooooh, you didn't think that?
Yes, I'm writing. Otherwise you couldn't read this post now...

It's Monday and Mondays suck. Still one hour left until lunch and this Monday sucks at heart. The weekend was quite nice and cuddly, but poor honey-toast suffered from migraine yesterday. I took care of him and we spent a snuggling and lazy Sunday on the sofa drinking tea (Jim), coffee (me) and Single Malt (me). In the evening he lit the third candle at the chanukkiyah and it was oh so cosy.
I'm glad he's feeling better today - he's a bit dizzy but at work.

Friday night was ineffably wonderful by the way. I was on tenterhooks and couldn't wait to give him his Hanukkah present, the 1640 Shakespeare edition. Oh my God, it was really just the right thing for him. He still cradles it in his hands, carefully turns the sides and beams at it (and me). The very sight of this makes me... slopping over with joy.

And it wasn't Jim alone who got a present. He had something for me, too. I still can't believe it.
I carefully opened the envelope and spotted two tickets to California and two tickets for one of the greatest motor cycle show ever. VIP tickets! I was gawking at the tickets, staring at Jim, gawking at the tickets again and still couldn't believe. The Teutuls will be there and we will have the opportunity to see there bikes! To touch their bikes! Oh my God!
"How...", I began and looked up.
James smiled at me.
"How...did you manage to get these?", I finally asked.
He shrugged. "I tried...and I got them..."
A sigh slipped out of my mouth and I hugged him madly.
James giggled and as he already told you our thankyous were a bit extended.
(And you just have to read about Jojo's present!!!)

Um...we thanked each other until...erm...4 am and then slept until noon.
Our breakfast started really nice, cosy, cuddly and with Jim's divine pancakes. But, alas, it was disturbed by stupid phone calls. Loads and heaps of stupid phone calls.
My cell went off and it was - guess who - Dr. Murdock! Isn't that nice? He's attending another congress at - d'oh - Princeton and threatened to drop by.
Cell again and it was Finn. When will we arrive at the cottage? It's not your business, okay???
Phone and it was Ruth. Happy Hanukkah.
Phone again and it was my mom. Happy Hanukkah to James.
Cell again and it was Foreman. Where's his black mug? I know I'm divine. But I have no clue where he put his fucking mug.
Phone again - Jim's sis. Happy Hanukkah.
Another call on my mobile, number hidden, no one talking. Nice!
This call was followed by five of the same kind, so I switched my mobile off.
I was slightly pissed by then.

My mood changed for the worse when Cuddy called us and we had to go to PPTH. Great! We actually had a day off!
James had to help Danby. Poor bugger, can't solve his cases alone!
I had to help Foreman as Cameron had her precious day off. (And I was more than pissed about the fact they didn't call her!) I found his black mug under my desk. Don't ask me why it was there, it was kinda weird.
Okay, I was pissed about being there but I had the chance to see hairy leukoplakia for the first time. Man, this looks strange!
Then there's the new patient who perceives humans, parts of humans, animals, and inanimate objects as substantially smaller than in reality. That's intersting and I'd love to figure that out now, but pain is driving me insane.

And that's why this Monday sucks.
Normally I should be delirious and drugged by the amount of pills I swallowed today. (Just had my 15th pill...)
This morning everything was fine. I popped my last Vicodin after placing the black mug in front of Foreman, went to PPTH's drugstore and got a new bottle from a new pharmacist.

They look like Vicodin.
They smell like Vicodin.
They taste like Vicodin.
But they do not take the pain away.
Either they aggravate it or they do nothing at all.
I can't tell that apart.

I can only tell that pain's almost killing me. I can't think properly, I can't eat, I can't walk, I can't do anything properly. I already thumped my fist against the wall but this wasn't that helpful. I tried the same with my head which was a small success for about 50 seconds.

Yes, of course I phoned the pharmacist. He insists it is Vicodin and no placebo. I can't believe this. It can't be Vicodin. It can't be any analgesic!
Now I bit my tongue really hard, this helps for the moment.

I think I'll curl up on the sofa here in my office and try to get some sleep until lunch break. Maybe the pain has vanished when Jim comes in and wakes me up.