A Windfall Plum

I feel so crappy in the morning lately.  I would blame it on needing tea, but I have always had tea in the morning and it did not engender this level of unpleasantness.  I ache.  I think one reason may be my bed.  It is a futon on the floor.  It is hard.  It is not comfortable, not in the least.  I keep doing yoga stretches and lying on tennis balls in an effort to alleviate my aching muscles, but to little avail.  It may also be that I keep staying up too late watching movies on my computer, writing, or reading books.  I’ve had two books in the last week alone that I did not want to stop reading at bedtime.  I kept reading on and on, well after a reasonable bedtime when I knew I had to get up early the next morning.  Oh, then there was the day my dog died.  This was not an easy means to relaxation, I can assure you.

So here I am this morning, sitting in my chair at my desk and my shoulders hurt, my chest hurts, my neck hurts, my lower back hurts, and my ass hurts.  I am doing little stretches, but they aren’t working.  I creak.  My neck just cracked.  I’ve got to do something about this bed, but I don’t know what.  And I need to go to bed earlier.  I hope this works.  Feeling achy does not awaken in me a desire to get out of the bed, regardless how uncomfortable.  I would rather lie there like a plum on the ground next to the tree, its bruises spreading to mush, turning into a brown and soft plum rather than a firm and purple one.  I landed on a root rather than on some grass.  My plum skin is withering.  My insides are turning brown.  My pit is sinking and shifting.  Yep, that’s me, a bruised plum.  Yummy.

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