Roll Over Beethoven

Guess what I did last night. I attempted to roll over from my left side to my right and nearly fell out of bed. Yes, I needed Ten to help put my legs and worthless ass back up onto the bed because I was unable to do it by myself—not at 2AM at any rate.

What have I learned from this?

1. I’m an horrific klutz.
2. I need spotters even while I sleep.
3. I won’t be on the next Olympic gymnastic team.
   

Next time—which will be Monday—the OT is here, I’ll have a chat about how I can roll over without killing myself. Yep, compared to most people, my goals aren’t especially high.

Did I mention? Last time she was here she just about massacred me with arm and back exercises. Sure, I could have said ‘I’m beat and need a rest.’ Did I? Fuck no! I’m so damn eager to return to my version/vision of normal that I kept saying ‘No, I don’t need a rest’ and ‘what’s next.’

Unsurprisingly, yesterday and today my back is screaming at me. It’s bellowing ‘damn you, you shortsighted stupid bitch!’ Yeah, my back’s a particularly vulgar little twat. Okay, maybe that’s me in general.

Yeah, I’m a real joy to live with at the mo.

Roll over Beethoven
And tell Tchaikovsky the news