Ouch

I had such plans for today. I have a copycat recipe for Popeyes’ Red Beans and Rice. I have a gorgeous new cooker that cooks beans from the bag in 150 minutes. I have a container of bacon grease, some andouille, and pre-chopped onions and peppers.

I have six boxes of jiffy corn muffin mix, and the world’s best cornbread recipe.

I was ready to kick this Thursday’s *ass.*

And then.

As a person of a certain age, I am quite used to the 430 am need to pee.

And also, the 730 am need to pee. Getting old is a right bitch.

Anyway, I got up this morning at 430, as I do, and was sitting on the toilet when my sleep pod dropped out of my ear. I bent over to pick it up, and was stunned—stunned I tell you—by how ridiculously painful that was.

It sort of felt like every muscle in my lower back was all twisted up. I thought—and trust me that I would not have thought this if it weren’t 430 in the am—that I just needed a good stretch.

The reason I would have known better in the light of day is that my sciatica ALWAYS just feels like I need a good stretch, and that stretch always makes it worse.

And, sure enough, by 730, worse had arrived.

So, I have spent the day largely immobile, and on pretty extreme levels of Aleve and Tylenol, and I feel…eh, a little better…but not great.

The very good news is that my sciatica has pretty consistently resolved within 48 hours of rest and nsaids.

The not so very good news is that no one is eating red beans and rice today. Or, maybe, tomorrow.

Now, however, I shall return to actively resting, which really involves a good book and a husband willing to fetch me sodas and ice. And make me sandwiches.

Kevin, man. Just the fucking best.

Before I return to controlled sloth, though, here’s some good stuff—

Yesterday, I did meditate for 35 minutes, and I wrote something for the blog. I read 234 pages. I was grateful for COSTCO, whose ciabatta rolls quite literally keep me from starving most weeks.

Love y’all.