GAAAAH! My back hurts! I’ve been complaining about my shoulder/back pain for the past two weeks now to my co-workers. My body’s just giving out on me. I’m only 29, people!
I was trying to figure out what could have caused it. Is it the way I sit at my desk? That could be the reason…partly. I have a back support attached to my chair and I try to sit up and not slouch over. Or I think it could be the fact that my bag is ALWAYS, like, 30 pounds heavier than me. I feel the need to lug everything around—my organizer, big ass wallet, small make up bag, and keys. I have, like, 10 keys attached to a key ring in my bag—half of which I’m not quite sure opens what doors. And sometimes, my bag even has my daughter’s snacks in it. Not because I carry snacks for her just in case she has a toddler meltdown and I need something to pacify her, but because at night, she likes to hide her snacks in my bag. Homegirl’s crazy. In the morning, sometimes I’ll find half eaten mum-mums (baby rice crackers) or fruit snack wrappers in there, all wet. I think she does it on purpose so that I would find it at some point during the day and go “awwwwww, I miss her!”. And you know what? I do. Shittt…bag all ruined and I can’t even get mad at her.
You know what it is? It’s old age. My body’s telling me that I’m on my way to the wonderful town of Oldville. Brookie’s dad is feeling the effects of age, too. He’s been having back issues and yesterday, I gave him a massage with this …umm..senior citizen massage oil and he fell asleep on me. It wasn’t even a sexy massage oil that smelled like flowers and sexy time. It was used primarily for pains. I’m not sure what the oil was called—it was a Filipino brand in a yellow glass bottle that’s suppose to be for arthritis (damn, Marlon…arthritis? LOL). There was nothing romantic about that back massage. And you know what? It was exactly what he needed…poor guy. And after I gave him a back massage, I put a package of Thermacare Heat Wraps in his bag so that he could use it while he was at work doing manly things (like build planes and shit—no lie.) That’s the type of romantic shit that goes on around here. Back massages with Ben-Gay.
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