A couple of weeks ago I hurt my back – you know, the ones that really get you when you’re doing something treacherous like turning on a light switch, or opening a piece of mail. Yeah, that’s the one – I was leaning over the counter handing my husband his dinner plate. I guess I was being too domestic or something – but I tweaked it a good one. It’s now been over three weeks and it hasn’t gone away – so finally, finally I went to the doctor.
I didn’t want to go in the beginning, because all they do is give you Flexeril (a muscle relaxer) and tell you to take it at night before you go to bed.
It’s been about six years since I last tweaked my back (that one was set off by a sneeze) and remembered I didn’t much care for the Flexeril, but didn’t remember why.
I now remember why. You take it when you go to bed and it’s not that it helps you go to sleep, it helps you STAY asleep – but only subconsciously.
For the last three days in the morning my alarm goes off, but I don’t get up, I can’t get up – I am a doozey daisy. So I turn off the alarm, but I am awake, kind of. My eyes are closed and my brain is working it overtime. Not your normal brain thoughts, but funky ones. Ones you know aren’t right, because you are awake, but you are not.
I’m going to share yesterdays morning brain overdrive treat with you; the alarm goes off, I turn it off, but stay laying down. Can’t get up really. And in my head, playing like a movie are a Swiffer dust sheet and a Bounce laundry static sheet.
They are on my kitchen counter, having a conversation – one is leaning against a light blue tupperware-ish container, I don’t know which one, but that is not the point. The point is, I am conscious enough to know that a Swiffer sheet and a Bounce laundry sheet would not be having a conversation in my kitchen.
I also know that they wouldn’t be hanging out on my kitchen counter out of their respective packaging (i.e. when they are brand new, just home from the store). They have no purpose on the kitchen counter, I mean if it were a paper towel sheet and the Formula 409 bottle it would make more sense, but neither one are. One goes in the dryer, the other on the end of a sweeper – totally unrelated.
So while they are conversing I am thinking this scenario is all wrong – the Swiffer lives under the kitchen sink on the first floor and the laundry sheet lives in the basement laundry room in a drawer, logistically this is impossible. One didn’t escape from the basement drawer, walk up the stairs, open the child proofed locked cupboard door, help the Swiffer out of his package and climb up the to the kitchen counter… they have no muscles, or hands, or feet for that matter.
I am awake, but I simply can’t get up and all of this is playing out in my semi conscious brain. Vividly.
Obviously, if I were thinking clearly I would know that Swiffer sheets and dryer sheets can’t talk – and that would have been the end of it. But no – I am watching this movie in my head, brain is trying to piece it together with all the other illogical points I mentioned above.
I also think the laundry sheet is a woman and the Swiffer is a man – these were not two gossipy cleaning ladies getting together for a dish session.
I just want to say to world, don’t ever take a Flexeril at any time other than bed time, it all seems so real, even though you know it’s not. And while my make believe story line yesterday morning entailed two harmless pieces of white fabric – yours may not – be safe – get under the covers and stay there!! It’s such a scary world.
And for heaven’s sake - don’t sneeze. Next thing you know the Kleenex tissue and the Lysol wipes will be involved – all these little white sheets… should we be concerned??