My back muscles must be getting weak in my old age, because I've vomited plenty of times in my life and never ended up with a back spasm. But now? Apparently it's cause enough.

And do you want to know the worst part of laying down after work for the rest of the day so you can try to heal instead of having to take muscle relaxers for a month? It's the filth.

I am not an immaculate housekeeper (except for my kitchen, which I try to keep very clean at all times because I make meals there). But I do try to make sure that I clean up any messes I make, pick up after the cats, and keep the place clean enough that I'm not mortified if somebody drops by.

Except now I can't. Every room is a mess. There's a paper towel I dropped two days ago on the living room floor. The bathroom was already overdue for cleaning. I've got dirty clothes thrown everywhere. There's cracker crumbs by my bed, in my bed, next to the counch, on the couch, and in the couch. Plus the sink is full of dirty dishes. Which mostly belong to the cats because I've been on an all-cracker diet. Which would be fine except fish residue smells after a few days. Badly.

Tonight I finally couldn't take it any more and decided to load the dishwasher as carefully as possible. Only the top rack so I don't have to bend over too far. The silverware I put in the rack on the dishwasher door instead of in the bottom rack like I usually do because it seems they would get cleaner there. I only managed to get the rack on one of the two pegs, but close enough.

Everything was going fine.

Until I bent over to get a soap pellet from the bottom shelf of the cupboard without thinking.

There goes my pill-free day.

So now I'm back on the couch waiting for the muscle relaxer to kick in so I can make my way up the stairs to bed.

In all honesty, I thought climbing in and out of my car would be my downfall, not cat dishes.