I have a bruise the size of a Smithfield ham over my left shoulder and across my chest. I'm lucky I wasn't wearing an underwire, lol. It hurts, although at this point it's just me whining. I don't have any upper body strength and it's driving me nuts.
I tried to disjoint a chicken--an easy job that used to take five minutes and recently took ten, with me swearing and sawing away at the breast like a lumberjack. I also couldn't grab the detergent. Another one of those, "What do you mean, I can't?" moments. My car is totaled. Those Geico people were fast. Less than a 24 hour turnaround.
I thought about life, writing and my kids today, and how sometimes it feels a little bit like I'm running in mud. I'm going nowhere fast, but there are no regrets. I'm spending time I should have spent years ago, trying to connect with the people who mean the most to me. And I'm writing again, always a good thing. Although I think that's just because I'm afraid to lie down.