The last couple of days have been a bit rough on the rob. I’m substantially more scuffed up than normal and sort of feel like that moment when Indiana Jones is asked about … isn’t there any place that DOESN’T hurt? Fortunately, with my wife that conversation doesn’t culminate in being slapped around with a full body mirror.
In any case, I have a vicious abrasion on one shin from running into one of the myriad amplifiers in the house. Nocturnal navigation is always an adventure in “where DID I leave that speaker? OH there it is…” and then there was the bee in my bed. Fortunately it turns out that I’m not allergie to them. Yay! But I’d gotten to the age of 46, firmly middle age, sans a bee sting and I’d sort of gotten to the point of expecting I’d make it through Life without one. And then last night I was holding Prince when a slamming door turned him into a horrible struggling 22 pound mass of claws and muscle and I have a pretty admirable set of stripes on my chest that took most of the night to stop bleeding.
Oh. And my shoulder hurts and my wrist hurts but that’s just because I only sleep in the worst ways, work in the worst ways and play in the worst ways. All in all it’s all a bit much.It’s 3.15am and DAMN do I wish I’d just fall asleep but rolling over is all like oooowwwwwwwwwwww.