Opiate withdrawal is currently the bane of my existence. It's good to be off not only the codeine but also the Butrans, but the withdrawal is not fun. My whole digestive tract seems to be rebelling & my back aches abominably. Also, I'm preparing for menopause by experiencing wild fluctuations in body temperature. It's much like the withdrawal I went through when I first switched from the Tylenol #4 to the Butrans, so at least it's nothing new.
I'm self-medicating with Sherlock fanfic.
Shannon and I went to a Berkeley Playhouse play today—You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown—which I pretty much hated. It was full of people being mean to each other, and it wasn't just Lucy (though she was a total harpy). All the other characters joined in with mocking and generally humiliating Charlie Brown (I'm remembering one scene in particular, though it may have been the only one in which anyone besides Lucy was such a total dickwad). I don't think I'm in any kind of mindset to find self-absorbed cruelty amusing. Snoopy was the only redeeming feature, especially his "Suppertime" dance number.
And, anyway, I got sick partway through the first half and had to spend some of it in the bathroom. And the entire second half, after the intermission, I was shifting around in my seat because my back was hurting so much. Thanks, opium, for distracting me from people being mean to each other.
Tomorrow we've got people coming to install some new windows to replace some really crappy ones that came with the house when we bought it 15 years ago. Some of these windows are original to the house (and apparently windows were extremely drafty in 1906), and others are cheap junk that was badly installed by a previous owner (and which therefore don't open well at all). It will be good to have working windows & get rid of the cold breeze that occasionally wafts over our bed in the night.
My body's providing its own internal cold breezes right now, thank you very much.