A Rough Patch

I have been having a tough time for thirty days or so. I hurt my back and have been a horrible grump. To counter the back pain, I went the Johnny Cash route, with pills and gallons of beer. This was a poor remedy that was no help with the pain, or the insomnia, and left me a temperamental zombie. I quit eating. Days would pass in a fog, and I couldn’t tell one day from the next. I have been a jerk to everyone I know. It really didn’t occur to me what I was doing until the love of my life took me aside, and explained, in the most loving of terms, “You’re being a Dickhead!”

This was the first time in our long relationship that she had ever used this term of endearment. It’s true. I have been a Dickhead of the lowest order.

But now I am back to being me. I’ve had my back fixed. I quit taking the pills. I sleep at night, and have regained my appetite. I’m over a bad stomach ailment that left me weak and spent. I have put down the beer for a bit and have returned to the greatest brew I know, basking in the warmth of my loving family.

So, if in the last three weeks I’ve been a Dickhead to you, I’m truly sorry.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled Beer Blog.

Doc