I’m noticing there’s a sense of thematic unity in my posts. There’s the “bitch and moan about The Man” post. There’s the “Bitch and moan about being “So. Tired.” post. Then there’s the “sweet story about kid and/or pet” post.
I’d like to say this will be a vastly different post from the rest of ’em, but who’m I kidding. Because, in point of fact, the kid did say sweet/funny/almost-a-teenager things, the dogs did act sweet and clingy in a “What’s happening” sort of way, and the man and I…well Hell. That’s different… we cooperated admirably yesterday.
Except, there was that other thing that leads to the thing that’s more or less the topic of this post:
In Case You Didn’t Know, we’re moving. In case you didn’t know, it’s a process not without copious quantities of work. In case you didn’t know, we’re having a hell of a time closing, with delays, delays, delays, and a couple more delays, and occasionally progress, and then another delay. AND THEN, there’s me being tired (and bitching and moaning about it) –just in case I was too subtle in all the previous posts, and you didn’t catch that.
Well chalk me up for something legit to cheesey-whine about: Overuse injuries. Sure, I’ve mentioned my arm occasionally cramping and throwing out the odd spasm. But here’s a new one, that asked for my initial attention in Westport: My knee freakin’ hurts. Walking to the beach, I started gimping and whining. (at the beach, I shut up, except when I was talking, drinking, or falling.) –I discovered that stairs hurt almightily, and I discovered that I didn’t know why. I blamed old age.
Then yesterday, I was masking and painting and getting up and down from my dear friend Step Stool and I went, EUREKA!!! –the pain was exacerbated by my ups and downs, and the pained knee is my lead knee up AND down. By the time S came home, I was in serious, can’t-hardly-walk-and-need-to-whimper-a-lot,-and-loudly pain, and had to sit with an ice pack on the knee, and a hunk o’ Ibuprofen in my gut.
So what can we surmise from all of this? 1. That I need to stop getting older. 2. That we need to be done working on this house, and into the next one, 3. That we need to quickly finish work on the house up the hill, and 4. That Ibu is my friend, and I heart it.
(I promise to be more interesting in my next post. I dunno, maybe I’ll throw out painting fashion, playlists, and photos??)
Up the Hill 
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