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Mornings are generally not my finest hour, but today's was especially woesome. The cats were communicating their hunger and excitement by winding themselves around my legs as I twirled through the kitchen getting everybody's breakfast and doing their damndest to place themselves beneath my feet. And when I made some kind of sudden twisty movement to prevent myself from crushing First Cat my back shot up a spasm of such agony that I screamed my pain and stress and frustration in a rather primal and dramatic manner. (Although psychologically it had many benefits, in life it seemed to have traumatised the household).

Both cats fled the house in terror without pausing to have any breakfast, and my up-to-that point frisky and frolicsome and gaily kicking fetus went completely still and didn't budge for the next four hours.

And once I managed to move again, I found myself sufficiently doped on adrenaline to shuffle off to work using tiny Geisha-like steps and punctuate the morning with intermittent groans and soft weeping.

FOrtunately I had a physio appointment for this afternoon, and having arrived thither in my full disabled glory going "Fix me, please fix me" I delighted my physiotherapist by managing to present with back pain, coccyx pain AND groin pain and she delighted me with telling me that for the foreseeable future I need to walk, stand, sit and transition between these with the body posture of a mummy (legs glued to one another).

Half an hour to go before I shuffle home to the comforts of sofa and frozen pizza and those kind souls (animal and human) who will keep me company in my hours of Wretched Misery.

Incidentally, does anyone know where I can purchase a donut-shaped cushion?


deep sky, firefly

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December 2013


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