Neck
Another weekend done. Pretty much without note. Partly because I had the sort of Friday night that casts a shadow over an entire weekend. Work drinks, followed by after-work drinks, followed by drinks that were not related to work at all. But by that point were certainly becoming a bit of an effort.
I know I’ve had a particularly solid night out when I wake up on the couch the next day. Not because I was too drunk to make it the short distance to my bed, but because I’ve clearly had the stupid ambition to watch a film. Friday’s end of night feature-length was particularly ambitious - Doctor Zhivago. 3 hours, I didn’t stand a chance. I was in the land of nod before the kid got the balalaika. I did like waking up to the theme tune on menu-repeat though. I might make it my regular phone alarm. Certainly more soothing than the rasping siren I have now. Life comes as quite a shock on a Monday morning as it is, without it exploding into my ear-lobe at a million decibels.
The side-effect of having slept on the couch is that I now have a bit of a crooked neck. A trapped nerve or something. Or maybe something far more serious that’s been waiting for a moment to announce itself under the cover of coincidence. The good thing is that we can get free massages at work. The bad news is that I absolutely hate them. I’ve only ever had one, and it really bloody hurt. The woman was mental, and I very much doubt she’s changed. And now I’ve got to submit me and my jaunty neck to her.
She’ll do that thing where she bends my back till it makes crackling noises, which are supposed to be good news apparently. They definitely don’t sound like good news. To be fair to the crazy bitch, she did at least ask me to tell her when I had reached my ‘pain threshold’. What business was it of hers where my pain threshold is? I couldn’t help but think that my pain threshold should have no part in our time together. What would happen if I went beyond it? Would I snap? I already felt like crying - was that it? She probably physically drives men to tears in her spare time, happy the woman who’s job is also her hobby.
I probably will feel better after though, but I think that will mostly be utter relief.
