Actually the pickling is an un-sought side effect if it happens currently. Was fine enough when I couldn't sleep for shit last night, thanks to losing, god only knows where, but somewhere inside the house building itself, as I've not been in the shed at the time since losing it, and I've sorted through the bin in case my old man accidentally knocked it in or something, but on xmas day I lost my oxy script, and it was by the thinnest of gnat's dicks widths that I scraped by, with just 230mg or so of oxycodone, reluctantly allowed as a replacement by my GP. They are really, really uptight about it, even though I've literally only ever had to ask a bare handful of times, 3-4 times as long as I've been with the surgery, since I moved here, that I can remember, in total, due to losing something.
But generally, they are tightfisted and argue the toss over each and every fucking milligram of pain medication they give out that isn't a regular predetermined pre-planned and long instituted script (that they don't fuck me over about primarily because in part, they keep forgetting and I keep hiding from them, not making physical appointments unless I absolutely must, I've had several threats to cancel my being on pain meds altogether, just 'because they are opiates'....hardly evidence-based medicine, considering that I'm a chronic pain patient, as are many other people, and unless something radical were to be doable and be done, successfully, probably surgically again, the pain isn't going away, it hasn't since childhood so I doubt it's suddenly going to bugger off now of it's own accord. And if I want to be mobile, or able to lie down or sit down at all then it's the only thing for it. I KNOW their downsides as well, probably better than the doctors do, given I'm the one on the receiving end of their downsides, and it's already happened. No point insisting on slamming a stable door after one horse has bolted, and even less when doing so is going to stir up enough shit to stampede the rest of the horses.
It has it's downsides, definitely, being on opiates longterm, but the alternative is worse, and the downsides for the most part, although not entirely, tend to show up when they aren't taken, or aren't able to be taken.
So when feeling restless as hell last night then yeah it was more than welcome. Right now I don't need anything like shaky hands, or restlessness, when I'm about to go take that melting point measurement of one of my little projects, and need a steady hand for manipulating tiny little tubes of REALLY fucking thin and fragile, delicate glass, disposable and coming in packs of 100 as they are, I still don't need them wasted just because I dropped the fucker or something like that, or to spill oil over the floor when filling the Thiele tube. And need to sit still for a fair time, watching closely through a magnifying glass for the tell-tale signs of crystals starting to 'sweat' and then begin to melt before fully melting, writing down temperature ranges etc.
Its more that if I want something to drink, it's a choice between one bottle of beer, or other bottles of the same kind of beer. And I'm thirsty. So naturally, it's been beer all day whenever I want anything to drink. I suppose I could make a milkshake by pouring half a tub of hot chocolate powder into a liter to a liter and a half of cold milk, putting the top on it and shaking the living fuck out of it until it screams and eventually gives up the ghost of it's efforts to keep clumped up, and turns into something at least resembling a milkshake.
At least, it's made from moo-juice, it tastes like chocolate, but it's got blobs of gooey outside layer of hot chocolate mixture in it, that are powder on the inside, because I really CBF setting up a blendder to make sure it's all homogenized. And can be arsed even less having to clean one up after, rather than just pour half of a tub of cadbury's hot chocolate powder into a jug of milk, shake the bejeesis out of it, drink it from the jug, probably laugh my arse off when my old man runs to the kitchen and spits a mouthful of coffee accidentally made with chocolate milk instead of just plain milk (poor bastard, he drinks instant coffee too, so putting any milk of any kind in there is kind of like pissing on a turd and trying to polish the surface of the turd to a shine using the wall, as if I were some kind of fucking autism speaks official spokesratbastard trying to masturbate to a picture of their family dog; although I admit, I find all instant coffee repulsive slop, and any coffee or tea with milk in it, of any sort, just as nasty, but put together, it really is not much better than the shit-fingered handwaving outbursts of a ranting aut-squeaks tosspot for quality
)
It did happen recently though actually, my old man just grabbed the first jug in the fridge and poured it into his morning coffee, before rushing to the sink to spit it out and pour the rest of his coffee down the drain and make a new cup, after not realizing that I'd just made a big jug of the stuff, from more than half a tub of hot chocolate powder and most of a 2l jug of milk, just pouring it in using a sheet of printer paper. His reaction was MOST amusing.
