Yes, I know those are not the right lyrics to the CSN&Y song, but close enough.
Had some fairly ambitious plans for this past weekend: Wanted to get a scope mounted on the Ruger 10-22 and get it dialed in, wanted to get the apartment cleaned top-down before the cold winter weather rolls in, wanted to get some food cooked up for the coming week, and wanted to brew some beer.
And all those plans went right the hell out the window Saturday morning, when I bent over to put the dogs' morning meal on the floor and wretched my back something fierce.
I've got a bulging disk at the L4-5 area, and it generally speaking causes me a little discomfort, but seldom any real PAIN. I take a few ibuprofen every couple hours, and I can get along fine. But every 3 months or so, the disk goes from a gentle "Hi, I'm your intervertebral disk, and I'm somewhat irritated" to "HEY, REMEMBER ME? I'M STILL HERE!!!"
Saturday quickly became the latter.
So my weekend was spent wasted, sitting on the sofa, popping Advil and the occasional Percocet, moving very slowly and deliberately, and hoping like mad that it would settle down.
It's better today, but still somewhat stiff, and I'll get to the doctor tomorrow if I'm not back to normal.
But with a weekend of 60 degree temps and perfect blue skies, it sure was a bummer to not be able to move. Dogs would have loved a long walk on Sunday, but that wasn't happening.
Getting old sucks.