I have broken my ass.
I don’t mean I danced it off. I don’t mean I’ve been working it off. I don’t mean I’ve busted my butt to accomplish something. No metaphors here.
I have broken my ass. And I don’t know how.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve noticed a persistent tailbone ache. If I sit a certain way, particularly when working at home on the computer, it’s mighty uncomfortable. I went to the movies this weekend, and had to keep shifting my weight. Driving my car has moments of twinge.
Now most people bruise their tailbones because they are doing something creative and naked, and something goes wrong (or very right, depending on your take of things). I can guarantee you that not only is this not the case in my situation, but that I can barely remember the last time my tailbone was actually in any real danger.
I have not fallen. I have not backed into anything. No one has tried to beat me senseless either with a 2x4, or with their wit in weeks.
Dee thinks I have a secret life. If I do, it’s news to me. Perhaps, my ass is having a better time than I realize. Although I do try to keep it with me as often as possible, so I’d like to think I’d notice something like that. Then again, I’ve been very distracted lately.
No, I think that I’ve sat on it for so long, that it has finally had enough. I have this visual of my ever expanding cheeks angrily trying to strangle my tailbone. Seriously, as they get bigger, they are actually growing inward. And now the tailbone is striking back! I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that I’ve reached a stage in life where my bones are actually bruising from inactivity. Careful kids, sitting on the couch can be bum-deadly!
Swell. I was worried that it would take years to get to this level of decrepitude.
Now I have to figure out how to explain to work that rather than propping myself upright while feigning interest, I will spend the next few weeks supine. I’m sure people can just step over me.