Makin somethin outta nothin

Well, here we go.

Insomnia has reared it's ugly head once again, and after telling myself and everyone around me that I was going to try and go to bed early tonight, I am now still awake at 4 AM. Mind you, I'm supposed to be running with Ole Elrod in approximately 4 hours, but I just don't think that's going to happen. Sorry, Pidge.

I'm sitting here in my room, wiggling in my desk chair, and trying not to think about how much my back hurts. Or how much my legs ache, or the fact that my feet haven't stopped throbbing since I got home from work 3 hours ago. I'm a mess, it would seem. My back has been aching for two days now. See, back in high school, I played coed soccer with middle aged males, all of whom were as competitive as I was (and still am). Needless to say, the goalkeeper on the opposing team just couldn't seem to handle the fact that a skinny little 18 year old girl was about to score on his middle-aged backside, and pulled my leg out from under me. I was already going to one direction when he did that, so his little cheap stunt pulled me back the opposite way. I fell weird, as any human being would being yanked around by gravity and a freakin 40 year old sore loser, and ever since then my back has been messed up. I went to the chiropractor last summer, and she told me that I already had arthritis in that area of my back. So. Fast forward back to the present evening.

My back has been aching ever since this weekend, because my wonderful roommate and I love to mess with each other and had several wrestling matches. Now, normally, one would consider this a bad idea. Wrestling at my age is going to be difficult no matter who it is. Not saying that I'm old, but by now, the competition is going to be either as heavy as me, or heavier. It just happens. It's not like you're 10 years old anymore and your competition weighs 50 pounds. That's just unrealistic to expect that at 22. That being said, my roommate is under 5 foot and weighs about 50 pounds less than me...shouldn't be a hard battle at all. In fact, it should've been one of the swiftest wrestling matches in history.

And it was. I lost. Swiftly.

That's why I've always been scared of little people. They're so feisty. And I've always just had this mental image of a small person latching onto my back like some sort of leech that just turns into an extra appendage, and no matter how much you try to shake them, you just can't get them off your back, so you end up running around, screaming and clawing at the air while this little person is giving you hell, chuckling in your ear and enjoying every minute of it. Anyway. My precious little roommate is a small person and has always seemed like one of those delicate porcelain dolls that will break in two if you squeeze them too hard. Plus, I am notorious for being rough and not gentle, and sometimes I get in trouble because I hug her so hard, I squeeze the breath right out of her wittle lungs. Basically, I often feel like a bull in a china cabinet around her, but whatever. That's besides the point. The basic point is that I wasn't expecting too much out of little AJ. Sure, she can pinch like an effin crab, but that has nothing to do with wrestling.

She latched onto my back within seconds of us wrestling. My worst nightmare had finally come true. And just as I'd always envisioned, I couldn't get her off. Her little legs wrapped around me and were so strong, I COULD NOT get her off. I did everything, even the roll that rodeo horses do...you know, where they fall on their backs to squash the cowboy they can't buck off. Yeah. I even did that crap and it still didn't work. When I finally managed to sit back up, she was still attached. Before I even knew what was going on, she had scurried back around and the next thing I know, I'm on my back, and my face is being smashed with her little bitty hand into the carpet. Tricky, I tell you. You can't ever turn your back on those little people.

So with all this rough-housing going on this weekend, it's no wonder my back is hurting. I can't even bend over to pick up crap I drop. When I try, my back screams at me to stop, and punishes my disobedience by almost completely spazing out to the point that it brings me to my knees. But, that's life. For now, I guess I'll just stay stocked up on my ibuprofen and my joint pills and hope for the best.

It's now 4:35 AM and I'm feeling the sand man sprinkling dust on my eyelids, so I think it's time to wrap up this blog of nothingness.

-Fingernail out