You know what I miss?

I miss days without physical pain.

A bit over four years ago, mr. zippy and I had such a good romp in the sack that when all was said and done I literally could not move.

you think I jest.

An ice pack, neck brace and fistful of narcotics later, we were wondering just how many ways love hurts.

And my every day since has been greeted with pain, some more intense than others. Most days it's very minor, nothing worth noting, just enough to remind me I'm not a kid anymore. But then there are mornings like last Saturday morning, in the wee, early hours of the morning when morning is still dark and you're not sure if it's morning yet or still night, that kind of morning. That Saturday morning I woke myself up crying out in A-G-O-N-Y as the bones in my neck again felt as though they would slice through the muscle.

Which is how I felt that morning 4+ years ago, when this injury was first incurred, only then it was perhaps ten times worse than two mornings ago, and then I had the bonus of having had really great sex to blame it on wheras two days ago no such luck was mine.

Two mornings ago, I wretched myself out of bed, downed pain killer with tepid soy milk and if that's not enough to ruin your day, I don't know what is. I spent the rest of the day in a neck brace, slogging back even more narcotics while alternating ice with heat and asking mr. zippy

"WHY DIDN'T YOU BREAK ANYTHING WHEN WE HAD BRILLIANT SEX THAT MORNING FOUR PLUS YEARS AGO???"

and mr. zippy, god bless him, quietly mumbles, "I don't know."

and manana is another day.