Friends,
It’s the interstitial between THE CHRISTMASTIME and THE NEWYEARTIME and I had many grand plans for this weekend. So I wake up late, as you do on the weekend, and realize that my rat fink traitorous lower back betrays me and thwarts any plans to walk, install brilliant gifts on my slab-sided pickup, or even carry laundry to the washer. Dammit.
You’re surely thinking, “Well then, why are you sitting in a chair writing this instead of laying down?” Because this is the only comfortable place and position to be in at the moment. Even then, it’s not great, but I really do love Ikea’s jesus chair (that they don’t sell anymore, but is kinda like this one) at the moment since it’s very nearly the right height.
Is it the cold, snowy weather? A dog huddling up into my lower back overnight? The fates? Broken osteothings? Maybe something else entirely?
Surely yes.
More tomorrow on the thrilling consequences of these circumstances!
Your best pal in the world,
– bob