Before I start whining and bitching about my broken ass, I'd like to shout out at my brave sisters about to ride out this hurricane. Living in Jersey 37 of my 43 years on this Earth, I've seen some shit and I beg you to please be over prepared. If you think it's too much, it's not. For Sandy everyone teased me about being over prepared......then I had a family of 4 and their dog living with me for 10 days because they were just barely prepared. I'm listening to the weather right now (my boss watches the news and car shows all day and happens to have the news on now) and I have to admit, even I'm nervous and it's no where near NJ. I guess after Irene and Sandy, I get freaked out just hearing about it.
So now that you bitches know I give all the fucks about you and your families, I'll commence my
barely 1st grade writing skills eloquently written dribble.
With regard to weirdo pic above, I've busted out my cauldron mug today because I'm at work staring out huge windows at dreary clouds, fog and mist. Sounds kinda romantic if it weren't THE 6TH FUCKING DAY OF THIS SHIT.
Also, I broke my ass.
At least that's what it feels like. Long story short.....the last weekend of July I sat for about 100 hours like a fucking sloth on a shitty cheap piece of garbage couch. The couch was brought by my husband when he moved in and I banished it to the man cave thinking I won't spend much time in there. All movies and sports are watched in there so I spend more time than I thought. First it was NASCAR, then 2 movies. My driver didn't win and the movies were meh. We didn't even have couch sex because The Boy was home so NONE OF THE SHITTY COUCH TIME WAS WORTH IT. When I finally peeled my fat ass off my back felt "wonky". "Wonky" turned into barely being able to walk. Barely being able to walk turned into a trip to doc in a box where I got muscle relaxers that completely fucked with my head. I don't understand why people love those things. My body was relaxed but my head was going a million miles an hour. I'm sure I was a fucking pleasure to be around.
I started to feel better and decided to take a nice long WALK ON THE UNEVEN SANDY BEACH. What kind of asshole does that? This asshole. Flared that shit right up again. Started feeling a little better.....then last week I decided to clean my house like Martha Stewart was stopping by and again.....you get the picture. I have zero patience and always jump in gung ho at the first sign of feeling a little bit better.
I have fought going to a chiropractor and in desperation went on Tuesday. Within hours I felt worse but was told "that's what's supposed to happen". I think this fucker made whatever the Hell is broken in my ass even broker. Girls, I was in such pain last night I literally got stuck on the crapper.
Picture a nekkid woman with middle of the night psycho hair and too much junk in her trunk trying to pee by the light of the moon (which there actually was none because it's been fucking raining for 6 goddamn days) while crying in pain.
I gave in this morning after 2 cups of coffee and a half hour on my heating pad and called a specialist. I go tomorrow morning and have my fingers crossed this shit gets fixed.
I joined Weight Watchers on August 8th (it was the first time my ass started feeling better) after gaining 25lbs from medications. Basically, I'm actively attempting to shed some of this ass and not being able to get my walks in isn't helping my cause. Restorative/Yin yoga is great, but it reduces your heart rate....not exactly a number one choice for cardio yo. I've managed to lose 8.6 lbs. probably because The Goddess feels sorry for my pitiful broken ass.
Other than the shitty weather and my broken ass, things are going great. Job is good, husband is good, kid is good and life is good.
As an aside, I stopped several times while writing this for some witty banter to make it's way out of my fingers.....I must be really fucking exhausted because even sarcasm bone has fallen asleep. Fucking slacker.