Monday

I stepped outside this morning and it was such a bright, breezy, bee-buzzy, blue-sky-with-puffy-white-clouds day.  And then I descended the stairs like an 80 year old woman, one step at a time, wondering when the ibuprofen was going to kick in.

 

Monday morning at work, with bunches of stuff to do -- scoliosis testing tomorrow, Medi-cal adminstrative activity paperwork to process, six elementary schools and three jr. highs still to audit for immunizations, emails to write and phone calls to return -- and all I can do is take inventory of the places that hurt.

 

My left wrist, the base of my neck, the whole mid-back-range of my spine, my left humorus thobbing, my legs feeling like they're not connected correctly, and trouble brewing at the corner of sacrum and illiac.

 

What matters?  Blue skies and a nip in the air or this incessant creeping gaunch that replaces my bones with full on life-eating vascular-rich monster flesh?  Give me rainy days.  I'll follow darkness around the globe, just let me live with Eric. 

 

There's no reprieve, though.  I guess it's better to have a pretty morning than an icky one.  I guess it's better to have work to do than to have nothing to think about except what hurts.