Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
Vobis Non Me Dux.
Oh, sis! I hope it's not too awful. You remember where the bath salts are, right?--I understand not wanting to leave electronics in the cold any longer than, but still, darnit. Heavy, fragile things, set to one side 'til this evening when both of us can carry them. Alas, these stardrives are not gonna fix themselves. Gotta get back to 'em.
Take it easy Tam, don't lose the war to win the battle
I am cracking up that Roberta is still leaving you blog comments.
Knowing how sucky back-pain is, I'm trying not to laugh for the same reason Breda is. Instead, I'm simply going to point out that the blog comment from the person who you live in the same house with, seperated by dozens of metres, is very good advice which you should take.
Separated by no small amount of miles, too: I was on break from fixin' stardrives and that's hands-on. Too hands-on, as happens.
I was imagining the two of you on separate floors of the house, conversing via the blogs. Makes a lot more sense now I that I realize Roberta was at work!And hurry - take some ibuprofen!
Hang in there...and naproxen works even better than ibuprofen for back pain. I regret to say this is experience talking.
Dang it! When someone in one of your previous comments sections wrote a reminder to "Lift with the legs," they should have corrected it to: "Lift with someone else's legs."I will not offer any unsolicited advice, other than that the suggestion to get ahead of the pain curve is decent advice, and that, if it hurts bad for more than a day, it's worth it (to me)dealing with the doc to find out what you're facing.
From 18 through about 30ish, I probably moved an average of every 18 months, always moving myself. When I hit 40, I vowed to always pay professionals from now on. Or to bribe impressionable young men to move my crap for beer. Much sympathy here. I expected to hear you were incredibly sore, but hate to hear of you injuring yourself. Not surprised to hear that you saved the baby, though.
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