OK. Alright! I give in! Whatever I did to the cosmos, I apologize. After a completely fabu weekend spent 'round the pool soaking in the sun, drinking Icehouse and listening to a bunch o Buffett, I'm now stuck in bed.
It all started Monday, while getting ready for the 877th anniversary celebration of living in this house, I noticed a slight twinge in my lower back when doing pelvic thrusts a certain way. (Hey-we were all doing it, it was Eddie Murphy channeling James Brown for Christ's sake-you can't NOT bump and grind to that). Never mind, have another beer and keep right on going. I was looking especially fetching in my bikini top and khaki miniskirt so I had to showcase my er, talents for the friends and family that were gathered to eat my world famous spinach dip.
Tuesday morning, a curious thing happened when I went to bop out of bed. I couldn't. I couldn't move without near shrieking in pain. Lesson to everyone: do not shriek in pain when a 4 year old is sleeping next to you. It tends to freak them out. I found the heating pad and settled back down, thinking "ok, you're old and fat, no more rump shakin" and that I'd be ok by that night.
48 hours later and I'm still in just as much pain-I've been all but ordered to see a dr and ok I give in. As soon as the E's dad comes to get him, my father is coming in to take me to see someone for some relief. Pain pills and heating pads aren't cutting it and I really would like to walk again without a walker sometime before I turn 41.
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