I somehow put my back out last evening. This is a depressing and unhelpful development at the best of times, but when you've a long train trip in the diary in a day of two, as I have, it's doubly unwelcome. It also happened in the most innocuous of circs.
I was on the phone to my sister for 10 minutes or so, and when I walked away from the wretched apparatus, I could distinctly feel a twinge. This escalated over the coming hours. And this morning, it was properly sore. I spend all my waking hours when not shackled to the desk at work, cycling and doing yoga. How is it then that answering the land-line can upset my lumbar spine? It's not right.
It's easy to get psychotic - well it is for me at least - when one's back plays up. It's such a debilitating pain. Every simple action is turned into a test of will and physical endurance. The ironic thing is that when I'm being active and physical, it's fine. It's only when I sit that it starts to ache. Unfortunately, sitting is what I do for a living, so the days are long and arduous - my two least favourite adjectives. Well, 'long' has its moments, but you see what I mean.
So the plan tonight is to scoot straight home, carbo-load on wine and then see out the evening in palliative yoga poses. I wonder what Axl Rose is up to tonight. No doubt his back will be aching in the morning too. The rotter. Anyway, I digress.
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