Friday, July 22, 2016

Strained back

I strained my back getting off the floor after a meditation session. How dumb that something so Zen lead to something so un-Zen?

It's healing; it's not that bad. But moving is difficult—or should I say more difficult since easy bending and I parted company in the last Millennium. 

Of course having a strained back and not being able to bend, combined with the delicious powers of pharmacological (slash) psychological induced hand tremours, means stuff  dropped stays on the floor until someone else comes along to take care of it.

Or something, like a cat—and they'll eat anything small and seeming edible in under 20 seconds unless you get to it first. 

Fortunately I didn't drop any head meds this morning; on the doses I'm on that cat would be well-Shrödingered—you wouldn't even need to open the box to know.

At least it's a Friday which means the weekend to heal and I'll be back gingerly to work the week after. 

So a strained back but time to heal; at least I saved it for the weekend.

(Feebly raises arm in shaky triumph then winces from back stress).

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