Thursday, September 26, 2013

What's to My Right?

It happened again this morning.  It's happened every morning for about three weeks (or more), but today was especially bad.  My eyelids lifted to the grinding of our alarm clock and my wife mumbling, "Paul, are you getting up? It's 7:03."  I tried to lift my head and my neck let me know, in no uncertain terms, that my moving was not going to fly.  I tried again and pushed through my body's protests.  "I don't think so, my neck is killing me."  "Oh, okay."

I tried going back to sleep with my neck in a better position, but the pain was so lopsided that I couldn't be sure if my neck was straight.  Every time I tried to readjust it would only feel more like my head was leaning to one side or the other.

Finally, in frustration and agony, I got up, slathered on some Icy Hot and put the long bean bag in the microwave.  And sat in front of my television, trying to keep my neck as still as I possibly could while occasionally rubbing it.  Eventually, it got a little better.  Better enough for me to freeze some peaches, so long as I moved my body and not my head, but I still don't feel good enough to go running.  I can't imagine it would actually do any damage to run, but it sure feels like it would, which makes me think I'll  not go through the pain and just eat a little less today.  Anyone know any cures to morning neck aches, because they seem to be getting worse instead of better and it's getting old.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

I'm a Heartless Murderer

I've been approached by a couple of people (my mom and sister) who said they want me to start blogging again.  What about you ask?  My daily/weekly life.  I told them it was boring, but they said that's what they wanted to read... so here it goes.

When I was on my two year religious sabbatical I gained a firm belief in God and his love for His creations.  Even down to centipedes  that we found in our shower who I took outside in a cup to set free, and spiders, to which, if they didn't crawl on me, I also released into the wild.  I'm still a pretty firm believer in that.  I believe life, all life, is precious, and I want to defend it... except for flies.

I went out into the mud room to weigh myself (trying to lose weight so I don't hurt my back again) and found - I would guess - 50 flies on the window of the door going outside.  I immediately turned around, closed the door found the fly swatter (a tool that was made for literally one purpose), went back out and began hacking away like a blind-folded kid swings at a pinata.  When they were all gone from the window (who knows how many I actually hit) I turned to the ceiling, where I assume several went for refuge, then I was more like a little-leaguer swinging at balls well above the strike zone.  Back to the window, back to the ceiling, window, ceiling, window, ceiling, until none flew around me anymore.  Up to this point I'd only been working with the light coming in through the window, so I turned on the incandescent and found several more that I missed, "swing away, Paul!  Swing away!".  I didn't count, but the floor was littered with flies.

Somewhere in the frenzy, and especially after I'd seen my handiwork, I thought, "Why don't I care about flies?"  I care about spiders, centipedes, humans, and even small dogs to a degree.  Why don't I care about flies?  They help in keeping our planet from filling up with waste, they have very short lives, and I really don't think they cause as much disease as we all think they do.  And still, I killed dozens of them today in the mud room, basically a mass-murder, and I feel nothing.  Let's just say that if God cares a great deal about flies' lives, I'm pretty much screwed, but I'm pretty sure all of you are too, so I'll have company.

See you two, boring.