And why am I on Vicodin? I threw out my back while killing a spider. Yesterday morning before dropping the kids off at Oma and Opa’s for an overnight trip. Yeah, I’m a great date night killjoy. Nea pointed out the wee beast and expressed some unhappiness regarding the location (under her bed) and her safety (cue giant black dripping fangs of death) and well-being of her future sleep habits (all indications point to poor) if it remained there. So, I picked up her bed so I could access and destroy said spider. “Ow!” I exclaimed. The spider, however, did not survive the encounter. My child's happiness comes first.
To think I’ve been faithfully doing my 30 minutes of My Fitness Coach at least 5 days a week for the past month. Saying to myself, “Gosh, my back has really improved! Back in the day (ha), this would definitely have been too much for me.” Bah.
Gosh, I wonder if this makes sense. I’ll save the part about going to the Art Institute and viewing three really wonderful exhibits despite the pain (and only on Ibuprofen) for next time.