Out of Commission, Lumbar Style

My apologies, folks, my back locked up (for want of a more technical term) and it has (a) put me back on drugs to help calm the pain, and (b) put me back on a limited schedule of as much rest as possible. Everything, including this blog unfortunately, is taking a back seat until I can get some relief for it. Checking back in with the doctor this evening for her night clinic, so hopefully I should have an update and maybe some new medication to help soon.

I know, I know...I am an idiot.

Again, my apologies all around. Thanks to those you've inquired as to my status.

And, no, I don't think it's an absence of vegemite in my diet...

I'm alive, I think. The back is still relatively on strike, but also I'm now out of all pain-killing meds (personal choice, as I don't like to take pills of any kind regularly, if I can avoid it). If I can just make it through tomorrow at work, I shall retire to a complete weekend 'at home' incubation period to fully restore myself. News (well additional postings here, anyways) at 11.

(And a big thanks goes to my good antipodean mate, for the very funny get well card. If I can figure out how to include it here so it works properly and more people can enjoy the sickness subtlety of Aussie humour, I'll certainly try. The fact that it showed up in my email on the anniversary of Elvis' death...when a good chunk of the die-hard Elvii fans were presumably indulging in their annual Fool's Gold sandwiches (read the ingredient list and instructions, friends...42,000 calories of joy!)...was beyond fabulous timing. Once again, even without trying this go-around, you've made my day. Good onya, mate, good onya.)

And now a word from my chemical saviour... Percocet®

Folks, I'm unfortunately taking a few days away. Nothing personal, except that I'm really having some difficulty sitting long enough to blog, to eat, well damn near anything requiring sitting now...I think I've really done it this time and maybe re-injured my back. Positive side: the drugs not only reduce/eliminate the lower back pain, they're doing wonders for the migraines that have been popping up recently, too, from some unexpected stress at work.

And, yes, I have been spending an extraordinary amount of time on work-related issues, I know, and yes, I admit the blog's updates and frequency have suffered because of it. So sue me...or come pay my bills for me, your choice.

Will report back in a day or so. It will either be relatively lucid and 'more normal' of this blog, or it will read like a wordy and untalented version of Hunter S. Thompson in a wannabe full-on Gonzo mode. (This may make better sense if one understands I adore Hunter's writing style, and that reportedly he was very distantly related to my family.)

Moral message of the day: bend with your knees, or have some other damn soul do the lifting/moving/shoving/bending for you.

Bitchy Seems to be a Perfect Word

The following was sent to me as an email on Friday of last week (and actually the timing could not have been more apropos given the then-current circumstances), and has since shown up on several boards/sites I also read (apparently there was some massive email invasion of this message last week). The sign of a good bit of internet 'wisdom': it's still funny (and accurate) no matter if you read it at home or away. Or even if you're having a good or a bad day...brutal honesty always rules. Even if it resorts to some name-calling.

Bring on the bitches and the people that love them! Trust me, people, I can very well relate to this (all too well, actually) and fully support its message.

---

"BITCHOLOGY" (author as yet unknown)


When I stand up for myself and my beliefs, they call me a bitch.

When I stand up for those I love, they call me a bitch.

When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts or do things my own way, they call me a bitch.

Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in my heart. It means I live my life MY way.

It means I won't allow anyone to step on me.

When I refuse to tolerate injustice and speak against it, I am defined as a bitch.

The same thing happens when I take time for myself instead of being everyone's maid, or when I act a little selfish.

It means I have the courage and strength to allow myself to be who I truly am and won't become anyone else's idea of what they think I "should" be.

I am outspoken, opinionated and determined. I want what I want and there is nothing wrong with that!

So try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame, try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold within me. You won't succeed.

And if that makes me a bitch, so be it.

I embrace the title and am proud to bear it.


B - Babe
I - In
T - Total
C - Control of
H - Herself

B = Beautiful
I = Intelligent
T = Talented
C = Charming
H = Hell of a Woman

B = Beautiful
I = Individual
T = That
C = Can
H = Handle anything

Anyone got a sledgehammer?

Sorry, folks, for the lack of posting this past week.

I've been swamped at work, or with work-related dilemmas, and until about three hours ago I was still having problems getting the sturdy computer mate here back up and going. I do need a sledgehammer, though, for both my head (the migraines have returned with the added stress from work) and for this CPU. The blows may just help with the throbbing head pain, and, may just be an (ahem) deterrent for the computer.

Will do some posting tonight after work...*Girl Scout® promise*.

And, yes, I *am* okay (this update goes to the buds who have written checking in), just temporarily losing the 'there is only 24 hours in a day' battle as of late.