I’m back from San Francisco. I’m back with a back injury that has landed me in bed with some muscle relaxers that have kicked my ass. The doctor also prescribed Vicodin, which I have never taken before and am a little afraid of based on my dopey reaction to a simple muscle relaxer. Seriously dopey. Vicodin would render me a puddle of painless mess. It will remain untouched for now.
I’m not supposed to break.
My boss asked me why I was so pissed off about my temporary and human debilitation and I said, I’m supposed to be invincible.
Who told you that? he asked.
Me. I told me that, I said.
He just raised his eyebrows in wonder and cleared a place for me on the chair in his office so I could sit while the stupid muscle relaxers kicked in and made me feel as weak as Jello.
And yeah, I get it. I’m not invincible. Anymore. But I survive it all, apparently, because here I am happy at home with my muscle relaxers, good music, rain on the roof and some great pictures of San Francisco.
The picture above was taken by a friend. He had pointed to a town house across the street and declared it was his favorite house so far that day and that he would like to live there.
I turned and pointed to the Palace of Fine Arts and said, That is my favorite house so far today and I would like to live there.
He paused and said, You know, that sort of fits. We’ll get you some space heaters and it will be great.
Then he said, Hey Over Here and I turned expecting maybe cartwheeling men in purple tights or a dog on its hind legs juggling snow cones and he took this picture of me in front of my new house.
It was a fabulous trip complete with mini earthquake, random personal encounters, high heels, caviar, and my first cable car ride. When I am not so doped up, maybe I will remember to write about it…
PS: Do you guys ever listen to Snow Patrol? I’m loving them more every day. Funny, that. The post title is based on a line from a song of theirs…