the tongue's always the first to go

last night some friends invited us to a baseball game. i had to twist K's arm a bit since he's been so tired from work and the phantom illness that no one can diagnose, but he soon realized what fun it would be and, after securing a promise that he wouldn't whine about being tired all day today, we trucked on downtown.

but not before i popped a little pain pill. i'd been hurting a bit all afternoon and was worried that it might ruin the evening to be clutching my chest all night fred sanford style.

we had great seats - just past first base - and the weather was phenomenal. perfectly warm with low humidity (a gift of an evening by memphis standards).

K and friend headed off for the big beers. yuuuummmy. though i'm not too much of a beer fan these days, it was just what the doctor ordered. except...

for those pain killers.

about a quarter of the way into my beer i noticed the strange thickness of my tongue - i had forgotton about my little pink boosters and was greedily chugging the $8 cup of brew. i couldn't mention my discomfort for fear of the blank stares of K and friends - gotta guard the beverage from wary worried husband, ya know.

so i just slurred the night away.

it sucks. it's always that way with me - the tongue's the first to go - WAY before the rest of me gets there.
la-la la-la-la-la-laaaaa
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