I feel like that running joke in Airplane... where Lloyd Bridges sez "I picked a bad week to...", shortened to a day, in my particular case. I feel like three thugs sneaked into El Casa Móvil De Pennington last evening, rendered me unconscious and proceeded to beat the living dogsnot out of me. I hurt ALL over today... legs, back, shoulders, arms... you name it. I woke up this morning (I use the term "morning" oh-so-loosely) wondering what the Hades happened, coz events like this are exceedingly rare to non-existent for me.
I toughed it out until about 20 minutes ago and then took two Aleves. The temptation to get horizontal is overwhelming, but I just can't do that. I need to stay awake until at least 2200 hrs tonight and then get a good night's sleep. Coz we have our surgery on the morrow, Gentle Reader, oh yes we DO.
Gotta be well-rested for that.