Got the tests back on my Restless Leg Syndrome today. Turns out that I'm severely iron deficient. The lowest acceptable score for "normal" is 20. Mine is an 8. I find this strange, as I get a decent bit of iron in my diet. What's really odd is that I'm one of the record blood donors in Portland, and it would make sense that an iron deficiency would render me unable to donate blood. Maybe that's where all the iron went.......
What the doc said is actually happening is that the massive amount of antacids I take for the heartburn inhibits my body's ability to process iron. Heartburn and jerky legs, who wants to spend the night in my bed?
I've been housesitting since the 10th, swimming in the possessions of the rich folk. Unfortunately, the hot tub isn't working, but the trampoline is fine and I found the keys to the wine cellar. There is a drum kit in the garage, so I'm pounding on the skins and playing guitar a fair bit, trying not to kill myself with druken trampoline accidents, and watching expensive digital cable. I've wanted to invite guests over, but I've had some sort of heinous stomach thing that I could never subject any of you to. Better now though, so perhaps this week. Smoking a bowl and taking a drive on a sunny day while listening to The Arcade Fire helped.
Speaking of rides, they've left me the keys to the BMW and the giant Acura SUV things. I wish I wasn't morally opposed to SUVs, because this thing is fun as hell to drive. The fucker has a video camera that shows you what's behind the car as you put it in reverse, and a wicked GPS system that has a slightly ominous computer-lady voice that tells you when to turn and such. The garage door opener flew out of nowhere and beaned me upside the head; the car might be taking over.
Drink it. DRINK IT. ROBOTUSSIN!
What the doc said is actually happening is that the massive amount of antacids I take for the heartburn inhibits my body's ability to process iron. Heartburn and jerky legs, who wants to spend the night in my bed?
I've been housesitting since the 10th, swimming in the possessions of the rich folk. Unfortunately, the hot tub isn't working, but the trampoline is fine and I found the keys to the wine cellar. There is a drum kit in the garage, so I'm pounding on the skins and playing guitar a fair bit, trying not to kill myself with druken trampoline accidents, and watching expensive digital cable. I've wanted to invite guests over, but I've had some sort of heinous stomach thing that I could never subject any of you to. Better now though, so perhaps this week. Smoking a bowl and taking a drive on a sunny day while listening to The Arcade Fire helped.
Speaking of rides, they've left me the keys to the BMW and the giant Acura SUV things. I wish I wasn't morally opposed to SUVs, because this thing is fun as hell to drive. The fucker has a video camera that shows you what's behind the car as you put it in reverse, and a wicked GPS system that has a slightly ominous computer-lady voice that tells you when to turn and such. The garage door opener flew out of nowhere and beaned me upside the head; the car might be taking over.
Drink it. DRINK IT. ROBOTUSSIN!
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
serendipity:
Make me some chicken wings please? 
bankerboy:
Thanks for the bd wishes. No throwing up involved. I had one beer on the golf course and two when I got home. In bed by 10pm. 