Monday, September 13, 2010

Ramblings...

Just in a funk today.

My foot is still bothering me, although a lot better -- I'm almost walking without a perceivable limp again. Feels like the Achilles tendon right where it attaches to the heel. I think the way I was favoring my foot caused me to wretch a muscle in my lower back early last week; finally on Friday I took a few very large doses of Advil and slept most of the day which seemed to give it enough of a relief to start heeling. I went from barely able to tolerate walking to now getting around with only noticing a minor discomfort. Sleep has been screwed up since middle of last week because of it, with afternoon naps and staying up way too late at night, after having gone a couple good months of decent, regular night time sleep. Still grouchy and funky, I feel like getting out and doing SOMETHING -- a walk, cut the lawn, do firewood -- but I know I shouldn't push my luck on my heel, plus it's raining out today. Exceptionally tough for me to concentrate on things when I'm like this. In a word, arrrrrrggggghhhhhh!

Saturday afternoon, mostly because I was stir crazy and couldn't concentrate on reading or the 'puter, I went for a long drive up to Kittery. I had noticed during the week driving seemed to help my back (I'm guessing the vibration of the road helps loosen it up), so I figured it wouldn't hurt. I hobbled around Kittery Trading Post for about an hour, then headed north of Route 1 for a bit. I was going through Ogunquit passing a nice looking place called 'tapas and 'tinis (click the pic at right for the review I stole the picture from). It's dusk on a perfect autumn evening and traffic is stop and go in this section of town, and I see a couple young women in cocktail dresses, just a smidge too thin for their frames, leaving the bar. A movie scene where Seth Rogen talks about needing to find the drunk chicks pops instantly into my mind, and no sooner do I think it then one of the young ladies trips out of her sandals -- not heels, sandals. I have to watch traffic for a second, and next time I can look over her tipsy mind is struggling deciding whether to light her cigarette or check to see if she broke the sandal strap -- it's clear she only has the coordination to do one or the other and not both at the same time. Which wouldn't be that humorous if I didn't have Seth Rogen's voice stuck in my head talking about drunk chicks...I guess I found the drunk chicks. As I continued my mission to find clam shack for a lobster roll, I last saw her walking down the sidewalk, sandals in hand.

Not that I even need alcohol to pull off amazing feats of miscoordination. After lunch today I let Oscar out, and he trips over the rack for my gas grill that I took off so I can bring it to the garage to wire brush the rust off. It wasn't anywhere someone, two or four legged, should have managed to hit it, yet he did. No sooner do I finish chuckling at that klutz then I turn around and trip over the cat litter box sitting where it normally sits. *sigh*

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