I got a tiny surprise visit this weekend. Nothing too extraordinary or bothersome, just a twinge of a surprise. It started with me bending over and ended with firing up the old heating pad.
Maybe it's because the schziphrenic Ga weather turned winter-like last week (completely skipping autumn and therefore making many residents of our State angry because it's too cold to go outside and see the trees just starting to turn colors) or maybe it's my body seeking its revenge over the fact that I haven't exercised since March. That's right, People, an entire summer passed and I didn't run once. But in my defense, I hate it. I wasn't able to run for most of the summer because I was gone and when I came home, I just too tired. Perhaps I just twisted wrong. Whatever the reason, I'm contemplating using the heating pad at ten in the morning.
I thought that if I stretched some, I wouldn't pull my back every time I bent over. So I asked my poodle if she'd like to do pilates with me. Though I said it brightly, as I say everything to her, said poodle's expression read something like this: "Does it have vegetables?" Sigh.
Don't feel too sorry for me. The appropriate amount will suffice. :0) The only reason why I'm speaking of said twingy pain is because I thought it could be used for the greater good (i.e., a blog post). It's not bad enough to warrant a doctor's visit, which I'm very grateful for since I don't have health insurance. Anywho...
This got me thinking about the last time my back hurt. And how I originally injured it two years ago this October. Are you ready for this story? Because it's a doosy. I was in Africa...
::Ooh, it's getting good! A story about Africa! Maybe there will be a lion in it! Or maybe she fell off an elephant!::
and I was getting out of the koombie....
::Here comes the zebra attack!::
and that's how I hurt my back.
Seriously. Nothing dramatic. I remember the day so clearly. I was stressed out and drove to the other side of the universe (I was convinced I was in Angola or something). I was lost and late for a meeting because I was lost. But finally, I found the school where I was to meet the teacher I'd spoken with over the phone. This koombie was an eight passenger van I named "Norbert" after the dragon in Harry Potter. It was just high enough off the ground that I needed to grab the handle on the ceiling to lift and twist myself in order to get in and out of the vehicle. I over rotated, didn't bend my knees as much as I needed to, and the jarring result left me lying in doorways, feet up on the wall (we didn't have a heating pad so this was all I could do to help my back) for the next few weeks.
Ever since, my back has given me trouble. Definitely during stressful times. When I detailed cars, I had to use the heating pad every night. But you know what did it? It wasn't cleaning the rims or stretching to wash the roof. It was vaccuuming the interior. Seriously. Which is proof that housework can kill you.
I have other scars and some of those come with great stories. And I do know someone who did fall off an elephant in India. Her story is much better--and more painful--than mine. Beautiful and talented Katie Ganshert posted about scars back in August. She has a great story, definitely more dramatic than "I got out of a van". Sorry for that disappointment, Friends. My MC is scarred as well. She's got a great story too. I just couldn't do to her what life did to me. It didn't seem fair. So she got a whole back story and symbolic elements to justify her injury.
The thing about injuries is they make us remember. Sometimes that isn't pleasant at all. Sometimes it's not too bad.
Autumn makes me remember too. Combined with this twingy surprise, the urge is especially potent. So today I'm remembering Africa. Eish, I miss it.
What makes you remember? What makes your characters remember? What do they (or you) need to remember today?
3 hours ago