I write to you today from a house of pain. Most of it mine, so I shall only battle through a few words in order to satisfy my own undeniable need to keep up the tradition of posting each Sunday.
The pain that is not mine is owned by Emily, who has been nursing one of her first ever hangovers. No doubt Rebecca had one too, but she stayed out last night so we have not witnessed it. Both the girls went to a party at Rebecca’s boyfriend’s house, held to celebrate both of their birthdays. Tom had his birthday last week and Rebecca has hers in just over a week, so they had arranged a do to celebrate both events. I have only seen minimal social media evidence of the event, but Emily’s arrival home at 3am, and a day spent mainly in bed are sure signs that they had a good time.
Emily did briefly surface this morning for water, but after being the subject of Oli’s affections for half an hour she quickly retreated to bed and hasn’t been seen since.
It was only yesterday that the parties the girls went to took place at the hell on earth that is a ball pool, and me and or Louise had to tolerate thirty plus kids screaming, sweating and ejecting snot and noise everywhere. Instead last night, just the two of us (and Oli) stayed home and watched a George Clooney film. The Descendants was both a very good, touching film and probably the best advert for Hawaii since Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
Hawaii is now another place on the list we can’t afford to go on holiday to.
So what is the pain that is mine, I hear you say fretfully? Well, at around 6.30am today I was rudely awakened from my sleep with a huge amount of pain in my shoulder and neck. Who knows what caused it. Maybe I sleep in some odd positions, but by Christ it hurts. I have been suffering greatly since, unable to turn to the left or right without doing do from the hips, and looking like a ninety year old with piles each time I need to get up from my chair.
I have the pain tolerance of David Carradine from Kung Fu (ask your Dad) of course, so I am bearing up well, and not mentioning it every few minutes as you can imagine. The very act of typing this here post is causing me child-birth levels of pain (trust me I know, I’ve been through it twice) and so I shall be wrapping this up shortly to go and mope around some more.
I trust I shall be in your thoughts constantly now until I report a full recovery, and for that I am grateful. If you fancy buying All This and More, I know for a fact that each purchase and reading of it will decrease my pain levels by a notch or two. Consider it a small price to pay, literally.
I shall see you back here next Sunday, if not before, for hopefully pain-free postings, and reports of me entering the best seller list on Amazon. Over to you!
Till the next time….
4 thoughts on “House of Pain”
oh dear…maybe you slept in a draught (maybe Louise nicked all the duvet…lol). Get some painkillers down you and hope for the best. Hope you feel better tomorrow so you are fit and well for work. As for hangovers – I have no sympathy 😀
Good luck. Please don’t even try to respond to this post.
Hope the pain isn’t too awful, but I’m sure your child-birth experiences have stood you in good stead! 😉 hope you feel better soon.
These youngsters, no stamina…….. Sorry about the shoulder. Louise probably elbowed you in the night to stop the snoring…… 😉