*picks up the bullwhip

I've been getting a bad case of the late this week, even when my intentions are the best.  Tuesday's long round of drinks and dinner revealed that recent wounds are still unhealed, and conversations about "hooking me up" are not appreciated.  Wednesday's shopping for WildFire didn't happen, and my PT session helped for that day, but sure enough this morning I'm still sore, more than before.  I don't think my PT is getting to the root of the problem.  When I sleep, I hurt myself.  I'll be sure to drive this point home to the folks at Spaulding, and then I want to get back to lifting. Not exercising for two weeks and growing gradually softer isn't a balm for the brain, if you know what I mean.

Before I get all ranty, I'm definitely tired, under caffinated, and my arm and shoulder are throbbing despite taking four Advil.  We are not who we are in a moment, we are who we really are over the long haul.  There's a lot that feels like it needs to get straightened out, and I have to start doing it.  I should be doing much better for myself by this time.  So do it.  Do it, do it, do it.