...the first word out of your mouth in the morning is "shit" or "fuck." Such was the case for me this morning when I got up and my side hurt so badly that it took my breath right away. I took a luscious nap on the couch while B. was watching racing yesterday, but the side effect seems to be this pesky heart-ripping pain in my lower back. Either I've pulled a muscle or my kidney hates me. I don't really care, I just want it to STOP. So I'll be taking a handful of Aleve and going home shortly. Will I be lying on the couch, though? Hellfire, no! No more naps for me if this is the result.
My reading has officially gone all to hell. I was trucking along--slowly, mind you--on A Thousand Splendid Suns when all of a sudden I just stopped wanting to read it. Not at all. No more. Nope. Not sure if it's an attention span thing or what, but all I really want to read in the world is short stories or memoirs. The R.I.P. Challenge ends here in a few days and I don't even care if I finish that. Bah! Give me David Sedaris or Haven Kimmel.
And I can't even begin to explain when I ever thought those words would come out of my mouth (or fingertips as it were). I think it's a side effect of stress and too many commitments. Maybe it'll clear up soon. I hope so, anyway, because I have an ass-load of fiction in my house.
On the topic of responsibility, I hate responsibility sometimes. Periodically I get this rush of my adolescent self whining, "I don't WANT to do that!" Usually this lack of wanting is directed at my work, my family or my hobbies. Right now, just the first and last of those three. If I could sit on my ass all day and play SIMS or the vocab. game at FreeRice I SO totally would. But I can't, so I'm going to lay across a row of chairs here in the writing center in hopes that my back will fall off.
On ye olde iPod: "Nothin' Better to Do"...Leann Rimes
Update: It's now 8:07 pm and I'm still in lots of pain. I'm downing Aleve like candy and leaning on a heating pad begging for mercy. Yet I still find time to type this little update, so maybe there's hope for me yet.
While I was stuck in the upright position at the Writing Center this afternoon I trompled downstairs to the fiction section and checked out Frankenstein (even though I have a copy here at home), and started reading it. I took a big chunk out fairly quickly, so hopefully I'll finish it by the time the R.I.P. ends on Wednesday. I should've read this book years ago, but I'm sort of glad I didn't, otherwise I couldn't be RIP'ing it for the very first time. Isn't it a shame to get those really great books under your belt? You can never read them for the first time ever EVER again.
I owe you all a review of No One Belongs Here More Than You, too. Maybe tomorrow.
OK, back to my heating pad.