Things Happen

My Mum is arriving on Tuesday to stay with me for three weeks. I went out this morning to buy some odds and ends including a nice bright yellow litter tray. The litter tray is for my cat, not Mum.

The morning's expedition was a little fraught as I was in a bit of pain. Let me explain why.

Saturday was a nice day: to begin with. ("Marley was dead: to begin with.")
I went into the city first thing to buy some Yorkshire Gold tea and I met my friends Louise, Adam and Nick and we headed to my favourite cafe, Gordon's, for breakfast. Then we went to Chokolait for some superb hot chocolate drinks. I had been introduced to this shop by Adam's sister, Nicole. She has a nose for chocolate...
Then we all headed back to my place for a fun afternoon of tea, biscuits and The IT Crowd.

Everyone was more than happy to assist me in shifting some furniture. I wanted to rearrange the rooms in order to make the place nice for Mum's visit.
However, very early on in this venture, I pushed a unit a little awkwardly and suddenly, every move I made was accompanied by agonizing pain shooting from my lower back down my left leg and up to my neck.
This was rather bad timing as we were only half way through the job. Unable to move, I had to stand relatively still as the others shifted each heavy object between them to my rather useless directions. I was a little humiliated as I felt like a slave-driver.
My three amigos were incredibly patient and kind to do everything for me and I am ever-so grateful.

The trouble was, I was due to head out to a fund-raising Trivia Night that evening, but my lack of mobility hindered my attendance. So, eased into a chair and wedged in with cushions, Louise and co. stuck around and got me food and kept me entertained for the majority of the evening. We watched things such as Alan Partridge and the DVD of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. Laughter is the best medicine, but it can also be rather irritating when each chuckle aggravated my spine.

After my saintly friends left, I was too tired to stay up. I slowly hobbled like a crippled elderly gent into my bed and tried to get as physically comfortable as possible. The problem was two-fold because of a) my lower back pain and b) my healing, stitched-up shoulder. Knocking back painkillers, I lay in the dark praying for an early train to Sleepy Town.

Eventually I drifted off, but proceeded to have freaky dreams about me going to work without my trousers and being harassed by various enemies.

So, this morning, feeling a little better, I still had to continue chores getting the flat ready and shifting more furniture. I am luckily more supple today, but it does hurt when I lift too much, turn suddenly or sneeze.

This afternoon I intend to tackle the kitchen as the lounge is more or less sorted.
As I type this, I realise how incredibly dull this post is, but hopefully while my Mum is here, there will be far more interesting things to write about.

I also think I am going to struggle using Kirsty MacColl song titles for my posts as I continue to use them up. I may have to incorporate some Beverley Craven songs eventually...