That Clicky Is Tricky!

It is Monday.  Vacation is over and I have successfully negotiated my way through the first day back at school.  It was a rousing 45 degrees (chilly 'cuz I'm talking Fahrenheit, you see...).  All anyone could talk about was how we only have seven more weeks through which to toil and then we will be free for the summer.  

I buttoned myself into my jeans this morning and was able to waddle my way about the classroom without losing consciousness from the lack of oxygen as I'd first feared when I tried to find clever ways to rearrange the material in a manner that would allow me to have just a little bit of dignity today.  But the squishier bits of me kept finding their way out of their denim prison and I was determined to get myself back on the workout wagon this afternoon in addition to my vow to eat naught but fruit for lunch.  Penance for all those brownies.  It's a high price to pay, but things have gotten noticeably more squishy around here.

Pity I didn't remember that Click...

I heard it yesterday while I was bringing in the groceries.  It has been my experience that things which click, glow, become noticeably larger or exponentially smaller are usually a sign of bad things to come.  But how bad could a Click be, really?  I hear Clicks all the time and haven't been struck by lightening.  Yet...

Once home for the day and with the Click successfully forgotten, I commenced the renewal of the afternoon workout.  I rode the little stationary bike for 75 minutes and knit away on the Invisibility Shawl.  Without the pressure of a deadline, it is a far more appealing project these days.  I missed the last five minutes of the ride, though.  I was starting to remember that Click and thought that I should maybe wrap things up.  I wasn't going to forget the weight lifting portion of the festivities, though.  You can't work off a week of brownies without lifting some heavy things and putting them down for a while.  That is like a law!

So, I was doing that bent over row thingie.  You know the one I mean.  The move where you lean forward and pull the weight towards you in a vain attempt at keeping your back cleavage from becoming more fetching that your front one?  Yeah...that.  I remembered the Click.  But it was too late because, by then, I'd moved past clicking and things in my lower back had actually begun to reconfigure themselves into something less lower back-like and more along the lines of steel vise-ish.

I apologize wholeheartedly to the Click.  It really did try and warn me of the danger.  It knew that my carrying all the grocery bags up the stairs at once was a bad idea.  It further knew that my navigating around the Big, Fluffy Kitty while still carrying the bags was nothing short of foolhardy.  It did its clicky, little job.  I ignored it because I am convinced of my immortality and refuse to accept that I might be of an age where Clicks are harbingers of doom.

To be fair, this isn't really an Old Age sort of thing.  I've had this same problem in the exact same spot in my lower back since my late twenties.  But, I still feel pretty darned rickety at this point.  And yet, I finished that workout.  Although I did so minus the whole rowing ridiculousness, mind you.  Even I can't fake immortality when there is a steel trap attached right above my heinie.  There's denial and then there's denial...

And so it was that I found myself opening the mail whilst slathered in foul-smelling ointment, ignoring the plaintive cries of the BFK as she sat in the kitchen demanding that I drag my aching self from the couch for the immediate dispensing of Greenies treats and sadly contemplating the diet ice cream bar that represents the only thing I to which I have to look forward tonight.  As I was just a bit dizzy from the mentholated fumes emanating from my hindquarters, I failed to recognize the return address on the envelope that was about half-way through the pile of paper I'd left to marinate in the mailbox for a few days.  But, guess what?  There was a wicked cool thingie in that envelope!  Anne, upon reading of my recent vehicle purchase, took it upon herself to provide me with a little of the Northeast Auto Bling!  I got me a super-cool new decal with which to declare my allegiance to the Red Sox Nation!  This will also go over well with the family who sometimes wonders if I am truly the fan I should be and will help greatly when matters of The Will are discussed.  Thanks, Anne!  This is just awesome and will go perfectly with the new wheels!

I really should show a picture of it.  And I'll get to that, I promise.  Not tonight, though.

The camera is alllllllllll the way over there.  And I can't quite get "there" at the moment...

SA