My back, Napoleon Bonaparte

Happy Valentine’s Day to you, dear back. Once again, we quarrel. I just want to go go go and you’re all like, “Dood, couch.”

So, last Thursday I pulled/threw/murdered my back somehow. It came on slowly at work and by noon it was totally spazzing out. I iced it for 48 hours.  A hot shower on Saturday and I was on the mend.  Sunday  morning I woke up and could easily touch my toes (like a boss)! I’m the Grand Marshal! I’m the Colosseum! Can I get a woot woot?

Keep up the good work, young buck. You’ll be back in business in no time.

Stupidity springs eternal. Especially with me.

So yesterday it went like this – I think I’ll go downstairs and do just a little bit of skateboarding. I’m feeling good.

Jump the box for a 50/50 FS grind. POW.

It’s all shit again. I can barely move. My back spasms out of control and I’ve made an appointment with a doctor this morning. I mean, seriously. DOOD. Really? What was I thinking or were you not thinking at all? It doesn’t matter – if it wasn’t yesterday I would’ve done it today or the next. It was bound to happen.

To make matter worse, the other night I dreamt I scored an 83% on a history test at the U of M. Apparently that is an F- at the U of M. The instructor did say that my essays were well written and thought out carefully. I just scored poorly on the multiple choice. And then I couldn’t find my “Floor Care” class. I was in a dead panic. But that’s OK, it was just a dream. How do I know this? After watching Inception for the second time I now have a “totem”. My grandmother’s pen knife.  Only I know of it’s details and characteristics. Haha. Just kidding about that but it’s a neat thought.

Hour and a half until I see the good doctor. Hopefully she prescribes.

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