The kids brought something home for me, and this morning I went back to bed for 2.5 hours after my alarm went off and woke up feeling like my brain, sinuses, lungs, and stomach all wanted to exit my body through entrance-only orifices.
I have bribed all of them with drugs, and they seem mollified for now. Called off sick and will skip all the day’s meetings, though still have some solo computer work I plan to do today.
In the meantime, here’s a story from JTF about a new way I hurt by back: Spilling a beer.
Beers came to the table (“First beer of the day,” I protest defensively, for anyone suspecting drunken escapades) for me and fellow theater dad friend. I picked mine up and tried to scoot to the right. I discovered that my foot was on the table’s base, and it scooted left instead.
My friend’s Guinness went flying. He tried to catch it, but got his hand pretty much inserted cavity-search-style into a flying inverted pint glass, which then bounded away, adding to the chaos.
The glass shattered on the floor, scattering shrapnel everywhere, including on the table somehow. The Guinness was even more widespread, soaking my friend’s crotch. Miraculously, my beer was unscathed and none of the mess hit me.
My friend went to the bathroom to clean himself up as well as he could, staff moved us to a safer (read: less glass-strewn) table and cleaned up after me, and gave him a new beer. About fifteen minutes later, I noticed a new ache in my back, which lasted for 8-9 days.
We chatted with our server quite a bit. She was nice, and I think forgave her clumsy customers.
And did you get it checked out?
Glad you’re feeling better but sorry for the glass incident, even if it was funny. I had one of those yesterday, trying to carry too much stuff. It was a brand-new dragon teapot I’d picked up at Northwood’s. Now it’s pottery shards to baffle an archeologist in 10,000 years. Wait, in 10,000 years cockroaches will be ruling the earth. They won’t care.