Spasm

Hubby woke me up this morning to give me a smooch on his way out the door to work. It was eleven after seven. I was alternately irritated and pleased that he did indeed remember me before dashing off. Pleased won out, so I decided to call him and remind him that daylight savings time was over this morning, it was actually eleven after six, and he would be getting into work an hour early. He didn't mind.

Did you know the brain doesn't have pain sensors?

Anyway, I re-woke up at a rather pleasant eight am and prepared to go to nine am mass. It is there that we "break open the word" and study the liturgy, and quite frankly, there is too much of a joyful noise going on at 11:15, so I prefer to go earlier. As I bend over to get on a pair of pants, I cough and my back spasms. I hobble and whimper to a couch where I arrange myself in such a fashion that my back isn't in too much pain. I think, OK, I got up, I should go. I stand up. Back clinches up, and I know I'm fucked. I take a deep breath and go anyway.

Today is All Souls Day, so the church is packed. I'm lucky. I can stand up in the back and people won't think anything of it. I take an Alleve without water and it gets stuck in my throat. It causes heartburn. I'm feeling very sorry for myself, yet quite pious and proud for being there despite adversity. I mean, those pesky Romans have nothing on a back spasm and a nasty case of heartburn.

To reward myself, I went to Old Navy and bought a bunch of clothes. None of them fit. I watch a food show, and they're eating ice cream sundaes. I want a sundae. I also want to be able to fit into my new clothes. I decide to take back the clothes and get a sundae.

A good side effect of the back spasm is that I didn't have to work for Hubby today, which had originally been the plan, and how I had planned to pay for the new clothes.

So instead I laid flat in my bed most of the day, and I rested. And this, I think, makes a perfect Sabbath.