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This is going to be a Monday to be remembered, I can just feel it.

If I'm lucky, hopefully I'll just remember the general bits about today, and not all the little, charming details that are making it so much fun.

Last night, at a friend's house, I brought along a 12-pack of Mountain Dew, so I'd have something to drink. At one point, around 8PM, Liz looked over at the 4 empty cans next to me and said, "Sweetie, you may want to stop drinking the Dew if you want to get any sleep tonight." And that's when I thought about it, and realized that in addition to the four cans that were next to me, there were also two empty cans in the garbage can across the room, and two more empties in the garbage at home that I'd had before I left. Eight cans of high-caffeine soda.

The real kicker is that I've mostly stopped drinking caffeinated stuff during the week, since I was having problems getting to sleep on the weeknights. So, during the week I've been drinking juice, root beer, and ginger ale (the weak Schweppes stuff, not the tasty Northern Neck or Carvers brands).

So we got home, and Liz went to bed. I stayed up and bounced around the apartment. Around 11:30 or so I decided I should really try to relax, so I sat down, got the blanket off the couch, and started watching TV. The cat, however, was not in favor of this idea, and started meowing at the door to be let out. Which really just means that it wants to go outside for three minutes until it's little fuzzy butt gets cold, and then it will start scratching at the window (cat's claws on glass is about as jarring a noise as fingernails on a blackboard). Then it comes in, has a bite or two of food, does a cursory lap around the room, and wants out again. Repeat until you go to sleep, when it decides it's also ready for sleep, and finally lies down and is quiet. I usually just try to ignore it, or get it to come sit down where I can pet it, which will sometimes mollify it enough that it doesn't want to be let in & out & in & out a few dozen times.

It worked, more or less, and by about 12:30AM I've relaxed enough that I think I won't just be tossing and turning if I go to bed. So I shut the lights off and go to bed. Diamond usually comes onto the bed with us, if just so we're right there in the morning when he wants to remind us that it'll be time for him to be fed in a few hours. Last night he didn't. But at 5AM he started scratching at the open door. Liz barely stirred, and for once I got up and tossed the cat out. It's my good deed for the day or something.

I woke up to the alarm about an hour later and my first thought was "Christ, what's happened to my shoulders?". My best guess is for some reason I slept all last night with my shouders hunched up, because they are more sore this morning than I can remember them being in years. I got in the shower, turned the water up to a little hotter than normal, and tried to loosen the muscles up that way. No dice. It still feels like I've got those massive metal clips on each shoulder. I'm trying to drink a lot of water this morning, on the completely uneducated hope that it'll flush out any lactic acid that has built up in the shoulders.

*sigh Maybe I should go find Liz and see if she's got any Advil or anything in that little pill tube she carries around in her purse.

Fucking rotten Monday.