We got snow last night, lots of last-day-of-winter snow. It was still falling when I left for work this morning in big, fat splat-flakes that looked artificial. Perhaps it's the late date of this snowfall, or maybe everybody is just tired and ready to give up, but the normally busy roads that I take to work were empty this morning, as most of my compatriots elected to stay in bed and wait for spring. My trusty Prius and I drove to work in a little solitary snow globe world and, for half an hour or so, I just basked in the surreality of driving to work faster in a major snowfall than I ever could on a clear day with fair-weather drivers getting in my way and in my face. It's hours later now, and the day has warmed up, and most of last night's four or five inches of snowfall is already gone.
Today is the second full day off of the steroids. The pain is back. It started again this afternoon. It sure didn't take long. I've got painkillers I can take at night, though, and this time I intend to tough it out for a bit. Easy exercise (as shown in physical therapy), and a little babying should do me a lot better than prednisone can at this point. It hurts to type, it hurts to work, it hurts to find a position to sit in. I had hoped I'd left this behind me. I'm feeling sorry for myself.
I write too much and say too little.