Five (ten?) things

I'm trying to stay hydrated. These painkillers dry me out. Healing very fast though. My head feels clearer than it has since I can remember, which is part of the problem. I wouldn't be up right now but there's a lot of activity on the street. Nobody in cars, everybody walking downtown. The noise is just footsteps. Nobody's talking. Let's put a pin in that topic before I lose anything resembling coherence, OK?

So, five things that are really more like ten things.

1. I don't remember a stretch of time before I hurt my ankle. Except something like a nightmare about waking up, then not being able to stay awake?
2. I don't remember going to the doctor. Or hurting my ankle. Or coming home. Or posting my last blog entry about a "quiet night."
3. The doctor's name on this bottle of pills isn't any doctor in town or on Google. Whoever you are,  "Bobsure Hunter," I'm done with these things. I'll stick to over-the-counter meds from now on.
4. Steve sent me an email reply. The message he replied to called him fake and laughed at him for thinking he's real. He's offended because he thinks it means I'm prejudiced against uplifts. I never sent that email, and the only thing I'm prejudiced against is astronauts.*
5. I wasn't sure if I was going to go to work today. Phones still aren't working in town. Then I turned on my Kindle while I was making breakfast and it was already on a document. Which is called "Document.pdf" and as far as I know had to be copied onto the Kindle directly from my computer, with a cord. Which was with all my other cords in a drawer in my bedroom. Where I was sleeping all night. Alone.

So now I'm definitely not going to work but I'm not sure what else I should do. Or not do.

I'm going to take a picture of this. I think I should be more frightened than I am. Maybe when the pills wear off I can start shaking or hide in a closet or something.

* - this makes me a "spacist." See? That's the first real joke I've told in weeks. I think I'm really getting better. Even if my jokes aren't.