It's been a few days since I laid off the pain meds, but every morning starts with the same bizarre hallucination.
The morning sun is blazing directly through the side windows and birds are singing and chirping away.
In Buffalo. In January.
Must be some pretty good stuff they gave me. Last night I heard one the the weathermen on television say something about third warmest December in history, no snow to speak of since the October blast and another two weeks of moderate temparatures forecast, no white stuff.
Yeah, right.
This in the town that brought you the January Blizzard of 1977.
When we went to the doctor yesterday I discovered that somewhere in the recent weeks of wearing-a-coat-just-because-it's-December I left my coat someplace. Walked out the door, went home without a coat and didn't notice.
And that was before the meds.
So maybe it's me. I was the first one in the family tree to go to college, perhaps I'm the first to cross the line from quite eccentric to flat-out bonkers.
My husband insists THIS IS the weather. I appreciate his indulgence and know he must truly care. But I need to get some straight answers here.
I'd go out to seek them, but my grasp on reality hasn't slipped far enough to lose sight of what happens to someone who goes out in Buffalo in January without a coat...