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Darth Fluffy

Happy New Year!

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An hour and a half, and I don't think I'm going to bother staying up. I had a night of board games scheduled, but I've been sneezing all day, and did not feel like getting my friends sick. I think a Nyquil, then sleep.

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Well 2020 is off to a roaring start. I have a migraine. Not as bad as it could be and is responding fairly well to my standard migraine drugs, but the is Not A Good Sign for the year.

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I have a cold; I cancelled my New Years Eve plans, and spent most of yesterday alternating between web browsing and napping. So far, it's the Snoring Twenties.

 

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Can legs have a hangover?

Mrs. Prof. and I went to the NHL Winter Classic at the Cotton Bowl here in Dallas and saw our Stars pull out a 4-2 comeback win over the Nashville Predators hockey club. I should say that we and around 85,358 other people went to the game. I wasn't ready for how cold it would be, nor was I ready for how narrow the seats would be (both front-to-back as well as side-to-side). However, what I really wasn't prepared for was the walk.

Ohmydearlord, the walk.

We decided to save $30 on parking and take the DART light rail from Garland (our suburb) to Fair Park (home of the Cotton Bowl). Bad move on many levels. One, the distance from the rail station to the stadium is ridiculous, especially when you consider my disabilities, the fact that I don't walk much, and that little thingy I had last Monday, what was it ... arthroscopic surgery! Oh, yeah, that. Mrs. Prof. had to help me navigate item number two, the official attendance of 85,360 (including ourselves). Everywhere you went, there was a line, especially to get past the metal detectors.

Once we found our seats, or what there was of them - tiny little things - we actually had good sight lines. I had to keep pumping down the oxycodone to survive the experience, though.

Game over, and repeat the excruciating incursion in reverse, right? Wrong. All but two gates to the gigantic complex were closed. DART police were letting people through in small groups to get onto outbound trains going to random destinations. My quads and calf muscles were in flames, and my knee joint was screaming at me with every passing minute. DART police didn't care. We had to wait with everyone else.

We did finally make it through the mass of people and onto a train, but I had to ride standing up for the first half of the trip. We transferred onto a train with free seats, where I was finally able to sit and let some of the burn dissipate.

It's now Friday, and my legs still hurt. I'm going to physical therapy this afternoon, where I'm going to ask them to concentrate not so much on my knee by itself and work more on getting my knee and my legs to recover from Wednesday's walk. Sort of a one-off therapy session.

That's how you have a New Year's hangover without alcohol.

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