“I’ve seen the needle and the damage done
a little part of it in everyone.”
— the prophet Young
I have to get two more shots on Wednesday. This would not have been so bad back in my drinking days, although I don’t actually recall ever downing shots. Which, I suppose, means they worked.
But this is just shingles part 2 and a vaccine for flu. The only redeeming quality is that they rhyme. People say you really don’t want to get shingles, but then I really don’t want to get a shot, so seems like a wash.
I’m not sure how it will affect my outing afterward; they’re supposed to make one feel like hammered death, and not in a good way. But I’m comforted by the suspicion that it can’t get any worse.
I was weaving mightily today while cranking out more 16:30 miles and singing the Weebles song (weebles wobble but they don’t fall down, over and over and over.) If I pass out at some point and EMS is called, I will be committed to the pscyh ward for sure. Where they likely will give me more shots. I can’t win.
(sung to the tune of Part IIA of Keith Jarrett’s Köln Concert):
Shingles part 2; a vaccine for the flu; weebles wobble but they don’t fall down.
Watch for my upcoming tour. But maybe down a couple shots before you come.
chap soccer, 10 a.m., 88
49:31 (16:29, 125)
16:21, 16:24, 16:38
142, 0.69, 2.9, v34