Greetings, dustbunnies. I bring news of the world above.

Well, I really did it now. I just couldn't leave well enough alone, and just had to do something that has brought back enough back pain that I can hardly walk. How could I be so careless?

I wore jeans.

At which point, you are thinking "That's ridiculous.  Jeans don't even come up to where your herniated disc is. Oh, wait, are you wearing mom jeans? I'm disappointed, frankly, because that is the sort of thing I would have expected you to blog about already."

To which I reply "No, no, they were normal jeans that did not, in fact, have an elastic which held them up somewhere near my chin." And when I changed out of them into the loosest shirt and pants I own, I felt a bit better. And then felt worse. Maybe they were corseting the pain in, from one of the other crazy, wild, irresponsible activities I had engaged in.

Like buying, and carrying home in my bag, a 1lb. bottle of fabric softener. Carrying home on the bus.

Or the fact that I sat on the floor of the bathroom and sorted laundry. Sitting down. Carefully.

This is getting pretty ridiculous now. I can hardly stand, I slowly shuffle down the hall, body contorted to keep from using my left leg too much. And honestly, if you told me it was the fact that it rained last night that made things worse, I'd probably buy it. I have no clue what I did.

I spent some time on the floor, by the dogbed this morning, in search of a hard surface for my back, and a release from pain. I lifted the iPhone above my head and took some 5 randomly pointed photos before I got one with the dog in it. I looked up at the ceiling light, and the wardrobe scribble that says "You do enough" and wondered which do-ing got me here this morning.

I really have no idea. I mean, jeans? No way that could have done me in this badly....I've just been to Greece for a week with A and M, for heaven's sake. Sure we sat at beaches much of the time, but I also sat at restaurants and in cars and walked village streets. For a week. And took 2 three hour flights. And yet, not even the doctor will tell me it wasn't the jeans.

Well, ok, he will. He will say it is completely random. And I will do my best not to comprehend that last word, perhaps I can sigh loudly enough not to even hear it. I would plan to cough loudly to cover up that last word, but I'm sure that if I cough at all right now, my spine is going to just fall out. Just like that. On the floor.


Now, I've always thought of myself as a bit more evolved (read: better) than creatures without spines. Especially amoebas and the like. But I'm starting to think that this whole spine thing may be overrated. Now that I've realized I can get over the shame of getting around the house on all fours on a bad day, perhaps just blobbing along isn't so bad if you don't have to worry about herniated disks and all. So if there is some sort of "Convert to Invert(abrate)" group out there, like a Jews for Jesus of the spine/no-spine world, go on and send me some literature. I'm open-minded right now.