Ow

A 17-post collection

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

I spent most of yesterday looking up and getting a crick in my neck, or going up and down from a step-stool. So my neck and neck muscles HURT and so to do my thighs.

Right after I publish today's Instant, I am having a nice hot soak. Then - potentially - a massage. Or at minimum a nice relax sesh with bad food and fun TV. I've earned it.

The plusses - Friendo now has a lovely set of uniformly beige walls instead of the testimony to tantrums on pink that was there before I got there. I got to educate on proper tool handling [CLEAN AFTER EVERY USE, BABIES!] and learn a lot about why my Beloved refuses to spraint an entire indoor room ever again.

Why? It's HELL. It takes ages to set up, is arse to set up, and even when you do your best, there's gaps you have to come back and fill or come back and erase. I understand why my love just noped TF out of that.

However, if I ever lose my marbles and actually want to do that sort of noise again, I will remember one thing:

Get the painter's stilts!

It's going to at least prevent a lot of neck-ache and leg ache when the next day arrives.

Story in a few minutes. Bath after that.

So here's my morning

Wake up at 1AM because nanna nap earlier in the day. I also had sulphurous burps for reasons I couldn't fathom.

Gave up on sleep because busy day ahead and I could always nap in the car on the way there.

Settle down to the compy to start writing and begin feeling really sick. Sulphurous burps continue, hot feeling rises, as does nausea.

Adjourn to the loo to realise, once again, that two Kirks' brand Diet Creamy Sodas is one too many.

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Gaulish Swears...

So my previous queueing system decided to die. Without warning. And now I'm back to putting them in five minutes apart. Like a doof.

I hurt my wrists by doing all my creative projects, yesterday. I have learned, again, the perils of writing too much, too fast.

Any never to give my wrists a breather, I am using speech to text. It is, as always, very entertaining. Especially for anybody in peanut gallery.

Beloved saw my ranting, and though we haven't talked

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Aches and Pains

The rest day after Resistance Training is full of them. My trapezius, biceps, and thighs ache. I need a good long soak in a nice hot tub.

BUT, I know I have more muscle mass now. It really hurts.

Also, there's a low pressure system making itself known to my nose. So now the left eye socket of my face has a headachy pain. The lingering after-effects of getting my septum straightened. Joy.

As soon as I'm done with my daily story,

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I overdid it yesterday

I'm still not over this blasted bug, but I'm over enough to think that I can get back to healthy life.

In this case - it was a trip to the local shops to replace some foods and obtain a new potato chipper. You know the ones. The grid of blades that you feet spuds through and turn them into chips.

I was planning to use it on carrots, but that's not the story.

One trip to Woolies and one mall-crawl that

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Why do I hurt myself?

As you'd expect, Beloved and I played Factorio pretty much all damn day. It's deliciously distracting. As a direct result, it was already pretty late when we finally gave up on it to watch some TV.

Two episodes of Daredevil on Netflix.

And episodes of Daredevil are longer than one might expect.

So it was almost firkin midnight before we lurched off to bed. And well after midnight before I actually fell asleep.

I am paying the price today.

...ow.

In other

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I am becoming an old fart

Or maybe I'm made of old farts, it's hard to tell. Or maybe it's the good old self-neglect at work.

I'm stiff. I'm sore. I'm worn out by going to the movies ffs. Going to bed doesn't give the rest it used to. The pillow is trying to kill me.

OK I probably need to find the right kind of pillow, but it seems to be an elusive beast that uses Brigadoon as it's sole habitat. Everything has memory foam cores, these

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So close, and yet...

::Cue Days of Our Lives music::

When we last left our heroes, MeMum was in a quantum state between being able to communicate online and not being able to communicate online... Telstra had taken twenty-four hours and counting to get back on a one-hour call-back... and Mayhem had forgotten all his Home Ec. crap at school.

Your humble Author is still poor. That $30 has to spend five business days in transit between PayPal and my bank accounts for no apparent reason.

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Health update

For my marvellous readers still with me, I have a news.

Neither good news, nor bad. Just news.

There is very little that medicine can do for my wrists. And also, very little that they can do for my heels.

The Spurs I have are a symptom rather than a cause. They show that I have ligaments that are pulling on the bottom of my heels.

All I can be done, in both cases, is the liberal application of anti-inflammation cream, and

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My humblest of apologies...

internutter:

internutter:

internutter:

Today’s story may well be my last.

Not for lack of prompts. I have lots of prompts.

Not for lack of sales. I would do this even if my own mother never purchased a story.

It’s nothing you did or omitted. I promise.

It’s this fucking wrist. I did some damage to myself [NEVER SLEEP WITH ELASTIC ‘SOCK’ BRACER/BANDAGES ON, KIDDIES!] and I need to take a break from writing.

If you need me, I

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My humblest of apologies...

internutter:

internutter:

Today’s story may well be my last.

Not for lack of prompts. I have lots of prompts.

Not for lack of sales. I would do this even if my own mother never purchased a story.

It’s nothing you did or omitted. I promise.

It’s this fucking wrist. I did some damage to myself [NEVER SLEEP WITH ELASTIC ‘SOCK’ BRACER/BANDAGES ON, KIDDIES!] and I need to take a break from writing.

If you need me, I shall

Read more »

Good news, bad news

Good news: after faffing around for a fortnight, I finally know what the fuck is wrong with my foot.

Bad news: I have a spur. And it’s still going to hurt like fuck for two more weeks.

Worse news: If it’s still hurting after said two weeks, I need to see a podiatrist, which is going to co$$$$$t.

Good news: The clever people in the medical industry make shoe inserts for people with spurs.

Bad news: They&

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