That adrenaline stuff is amazing...
...until your body stops pumping it into every fiber of your being.
Two days after a man who wasn't allowed to be driving somehow managed to plow a van (twice!) into the trunk of my Honda anyway*, my muscles have mostly stopped twitching, my joints have quieted down, and I am oh, so very tired. I fantasize about big bathtubs full of hot water and Epsom salts and my own personal massage therapist. I'm ashamed to admit Mike had to drive me to work last night because I was too skittish to do it myself. I might call a chiropractor after I talk to the insurance. My car is a mess and I smell like Absorbine Jr.
And, sure - I've definitely felt worse in my life but I'm pissed off that I have to feel this way at all.
So I'm spending the day in bed, feeling tender, sore and blue, and taking comfort in my cats, a bottle of Advil, and Netflix on my EeePC.
*He was arrested for driving with a suspended license, among other things. I'm sure the judge will make it even more illegal-er for him to get behind the wheel this time. That should work.