Jimmy Buffet's song of the same title as this article feels appropriate this morning.
"My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don’t love jesus (oh my lordy it’s that...)
It’s that kind of mornin’
Really was that kind of night
Tryin’ to tell myself that my condition is improvin’
And if I don’t die by thursday I’ll be roarin’ friday night"
I took another dose of the painkiller before turning in last night. About the only thing it accomplished was to get me buzzed and give me a hangover headache this morning. I couldn't sleep at all last night due to the pain in my hip and leg.
Such is life and I'm not crying about it, the song just feels especially fiting this morning.