I started a rather lengthy post on Saturday, but already, I was starting to feel the pain that was going to take me down in the coming days.  It was never completed and after a quick re-read, it’s just as well, so into the ether it goes.  

The pain started while I was back home in Kentucky, just a twinge toward the hip.  I figured it was from the new shoes or from some sympathetic pain picked up from a friend of mine who has chronic hip pain.   By Thursday, I was starting to get a little concerned.  By Saturday, it was uncomfortable enough that I was holding onto things to walk.  Sunday, I was down for the count.  I did manage to get in my night shift at work each of the weekend nights, but it was tough.

Poor Eric got commissioned to go into town and get a heating pad and some Equate (Fake) Ben Gay.  That definitely felt better, but it was a rough night trying to sleep.  There just were no comfortable positions.  I’m sticking pretty close to the couch again today, but feeling slightly better, so there is hope blossoming on the horizon.  After a great deal of research, the conclusion is a heriated L4-L5, likely from the many hours I have spent in my desk chair while working over the past 3 months or so.  I have cut back on my hours for the time being and shifted them so that there aren’t as many strung together at once.  Eric will soon be starting college classes and getting a stipend for that, so it will make up the difference.

He got his transcripts from Air College (the Air Force college program) and learned that he is 2 credits away from an AA and so he’ll complete that and then move on to his BA.  He has another project he’s working on that will bring in some money, so this year promises to be much better than the last one.  It’s wonderful to see results from all of the seeds that have been planted over the past several months.  The hard times are not yet behind us, but like with the back problem, hope is on the horizon.

For a long time now, I’ve believed that our physical ailments bring us messages, like about everything else in life does.  Most people I’ve known who have back problems have some issue they are not addressing where they need to stand up for themselves in a particular way that isn’t happening.  When we “go down” and have to be immobile for a period of time lest we court enormous pain, it gives us plenty of time to think about where we need to grow some spine and get stronger.  

Since yesterday and today have been those kinds of days, I took that to heart and did some internal work while I was stranded on the couch and got my head sorted out on some things.  That was when I decided to cut back on hours and open up my life to more joy.  

As I read back over this, it has to be the most boring post I’ve ever written.  For those who follow on Facebook, this is actually an article that posts to my website, www.katrinarasbold.com and automatically crossposts to Facebook.  There are years and years of journals archived there.

I recently had reason to go through a number of my older journal entries and I am amazed by what a whiner I used to be.  There was so much fear and acting out and anger and complaining I can hardly believe it was me.  It feels good to have come such a long way, but I feel sad that so many of my readers had to endure that kind of bitching and fussing.  

Since I’ve spent so many years whining and spent the last bit of time talking about my stupid back, let’s do something fun!  I’ve done this a couple of times before and it seems to get people talking.  Let’s do another installment of:

COOL SHIT IN KATRINA’S HOUSE

You can click on that link to see the aforementioned cool stuff in my house.  I do a lot of thrift shopping, yard sale haunting and collecting of strange and unusual stuff.  As Lydia Deitz said in “Beetlejuice,” “I myself AM…strange and unusual.”  

My ex-husband, Paul, loved large, open rooms with austere white walls and an Ansel Adams print perfectly measured and placed every few feet.  My house looks like the Goodwill Store and the Super Glue Factory both blew up at the same time.  I have *stuff* all over the walls and on shelves all around my house like a museum.  Each little piece has a story and is there for a purpose.  It’s usually only important to me, but it’s who I am.  Lots of little facets and cubbies and stories and interests; none of them particularly vital to the overall course of life, but fun to me.

Fortunately, Eric doesn’t mind.