Stupid ageing!

Yesterday at the gym I hurt my back and have been forced to sit at a completely upright position ever since. If I slouch even a fraction of an inch, I'm treated to a searing pain rivaling the pain medieval torture victims in an iron maiden felt. I guess it keeps me looking presentable at meetings when I'm sitting at complete attention while the other attendees are slouching or dozing off. Little do they know that if I were to nod off and bend down a little, I would scream like a banshee--maybe I'll have to try that in a budget meeting--they could always use a little livening up.

Speaking of back problems, I remember one time in college when my back went out so utterly and completely that I couldn't even lift up my feet to put on my pants to go to the emergency room. I guess my brain just turned off the signal to lift my leg up because I remember standing there staring at my leg that would not move at all. I finally had to just fall over and try to put them on while I was sprawled out on the floor. I convinced my roommate to take me to the hospital, but in his typical style--couldn't help me in beccause he had to get to the gym. Two good things came out of that episode: 1) I got a week's extension on an oral report I was supposed to do but hadn't finished. Phew! and 2) I was introduced to muscle relaxants--Man! I could TOTALLY get addicted to downers. Something about the heavy, comforting feeling of drug induced drowsiness really gets me. Why would someone WANT to get addicted to uppers--when I'm addicted to something, I'd want to be able to escape into nothingness, not get MORE stuff done! (Unfortunately Margaret took them away from me after we got married). Now I just drown my pain and weariness in Diet Pepsi.