Good evening, friends.
First of all, let's preface this story of injury with this fact: this weekend was ridiculously busy at the restaurant.
We served over 2,300 folks Saturday + Sunday. I thought for sure I would be dragging some seriously exhausted ass this morning when the dogs brought me out of what I consider to be the best sleep I have had in months. However, to my surprise, I hopped out of bed without incident at my 7:45AM wake-up call. I felt absolutely awesome and well-rested. Not tired in the least, not sore in the small of my back and hamstrings like I had anxiously predicted.. I could carry on with my Monday normally.
Although, I did skip my workout. Rationale--I know I probs burned a gazillion cals yesterday and I felt like this skippage was excusable due to the fact that Sunday was clearly not my day of rest. And I deserve one, damn it.
So all is well that ends well, right? Everything about this slacker-esque day was exceeding my expectations. Until, that is, 4:00PM rolled around. I could not turn my head to the right without a shooting, throbbing pain in my neck muscle. I thought to myself, "WTH? You mean I pulled a freaking muscle yesterday?" Verbatim- those were my thoughts. I'm clearly a huge wuss, so the pain almost made me cry and Matt and I retreated from being out and about. I complained a lot, was a total biotch to my husband and proceeded to take some Advil upon our arrival home, like an arthritic senior citizen. Maybe next week, I'll be carrying a pillbox in my purse.
Anyway, I feel better now... maybe it worked itself out. Whatever the case, I can't believe I pulled a muscle waiting tables.
Oh and also, I cut my foot on a freaking stick in our yard today taking the trash can around to the front. Who does that? Just walking in my flips, gash, cut, it's done. They just should've named me Grace.
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