The weather is nice enough that I've started to walk to work again. Just have to make sure I'm in a long sleeve shirt and am wearing gloves and then, after a brisk seven-minute walk, I'm at the office.

And it was all good until I realized that I had to take home a bunch of notebooks, reference manuals, and binders that I needed for the evening's work. My initial thought was to walk home, then drive back to get everything, but I decided to use grocery bags I had squirreled away in my filing cabinet and just carry them home that way.

You may be asking yourself "Huh? Didn't he say that he had an injured arm? How did he manage that?" And, if you did, you have a better memory than I do. My arm was hurting as always, but at a comparatively minimal amount, so I didn't even think about it. I'm so used to the pain that I barely notice until I pull/twist it wrong.

Alas, I eventually did remember... when I was half-way home and unbelievable pain starting shooting up the back of my arm. Dropped half my bags on the spot. THEN I was like... how am I going to get these home now that one of my arms is useless?

I moved the two dropped bags off the sidewalk and took the other two to the field behind my house. Dropped them off, then went back. Carried those to my back porch. Then went back for the two I had dropped in the field. Surprisingly, nobody came along and stole them or kicked them, or peed on them, or whatever it is that assholes are wont to do.

My seven-minute walk ended up taking in excess of twenty, at which time I was so tired and in so much pain that I went to bed. Woke up to feed the cats. Went back to bed. Woke up to watch some television. Went back to bed.

Never opened a single notebook, reference manual, or binder that I had worked so hard to bring home.

Story of my life.

Tomorrow I'll be taking the car to work.