I haven’t had much to say lately, because most of what I would say would be liberally punctuated with “ow” and “ouch.” The ol’ back has decided to go Out wherever it decides to go periodically, and has left a tangled wreck of musculature around my spine in its place. It has done this once every one to three years since about 1985, and it has always gotten better before so I expect it to the same soon this time, too. I did go to the doctor yesterday, and got a prescription for a muscle relaxant—unfortunately, the instructions say to only take it before bedtime, which is usually when the back is loosest, but I am having faith for now. Progress is being made; it’s just always too slow when my back is concerned.
I spent the weekend either in bed or on the couch. I never thought that could get boring, but boring it got, even with the TV on. So I went out Saturday night to see Tracy Kash Thomas at Trixie’s, because I figured I could sit home and be miserable or I could go out and sit and be miserable and have a coffee and listen to good music, and maybe become less miserable. It was a good choice; Tracy is talented and smooth, and she and her drummer are cool folks too.
OK, back, you have this week to get better. I don’t want any of this pain around for the holiday weekend. Got it?