Stupid, stupid back. Or stoopid, stoopid owner of a tricksy back. Either way.

I had a spasm the likes of which have not been felt since, oh, um 4 years ago, when said stoopid back decided to let me know it didn’t dig the daily 4 hour driving time and 8+ hours of sitting at a desk I had been coaxing out of it by just plain locking the fuck up and refusing to move. (You know what’s amusing? A Chinese chef and a Filipino dishwasher, neither of whom speak English, carrying you to the ER downstairs. Apparently the sounds of agony are universal. Thanks guys!)

Apparently me having the audacity to put laundry in the dryer last week was just the straw that broke the camels back (pun DEFINITLEY intended. Sorry.) and I remain for the most part supine, watching crappy tv that I want to scream at and knitting. A lot. I actually finished an entire pair of slippers. MUST. BE. PRODUCTIVE.

And I’m healing up, slowly. Not fast enough for me, but getting there. And I think I may just lay on the couch and do all my Christmas shopping this week. Because seriously? I haaaaaaaate stores at this time of the year. The energy is just wierd, man.

Somebody… bring me chocolate. And Vicodin. And more chocolate. K thanks?!