Sometimes you play a card game in which your 5 year old daughter soundly trounces you. And mostly you lay here trying to find some position in which you didn't want to die. Because when you're desperate, sometimes you make an appointment with certain NEEDLES, that in some cases can alleviate pain from herniated discs for a long time - as in for FOREVER.
Sometimes you pick up a fast food lunch for the girls since - remember: bread drought - and as I do not yet own a time machine, Taco Smell it was.
Sometimes you attend a acupuncture session and realize the trigger points (how could there be so many) and herniated discs are just the tip of your bad health iceberg. A dear, long-time friend used her training and knowledge on me, and for the most part it felt good. Except I do rather look like I've been to a hickey convention (from the cupping massage). I'd come prepared to be face down (no mascara). One of the trigger points she worked on sent a sharp zing! up my neck. Sometimes you have to put Chinese Ben Gay band aids over such a pissed off trigger point.
Sometimes you go to the grocery store and you forget you have this big circle mark on your forehead and puffy cheeks from having been face down for the past 60 minutes, that is until people begin to stare and avoid eye contact. But there is a cereal drought you must snap, so
martyr on you must onward you go. But look! They have those breakfast claws back in stock, and Zingers are ON SALE!! (it's practically your civic duty to stock up), and while we're at it: french toast sounds good, and English muffins, oh and some hot cocoa to go with it. You see where this is headed, right?
Sometimes you end up with the Checker Nazi who not only throws your bread around like a football headed for the end zone, but chucks your bananas and eggs. AND, doesn't bag a damn thing. Sometimes you just suck it up and begin huffily bagging it yourself until crapnuggets you realize your neck is getting stiffer by the minute. So you have to slow down to 80 year old bagging pace.
By this time you are near to tears, because not only is your neck about to pinch off your head, but you've just witnessed a white bread beating. Who does that? I mean WHO SQUEEZES and then SLAM DUNKS the baked goods without even bagging it?! Checker Nazi, that's who.
Sometimes you are walking through the parking lot in like 15 degree weather, and you realize you have no idea where you parked. Not the foggiest idea, at all. At least you remember which car you came in. You walk around beeping your remote locks but because of the wind chill, it's not working. It's too damned cold.
Sometimes you text your husband because you cannot bear to walk around the parking lot again looking like an idiot about to cry (well someone has got to entertain the security camera crew, right). And of course as soon as he offers to come and help you find it, it jumps out of hiding.
Sometimes, on your way home your husband will call you to see where you are and how you are doing, and you tell him, I am sitting here in front of the gas station and I'm going in to buy a Diet Dr. Pepper (like it's hard liquor, or something). You tell him you just got off the phone with the doctor who wants you to come in and discuss your "neck pain" even though you went in the previous week and it was the plan all along to send in a particular rx.
In fact, you start crying because you realize that the durned ring around the face mark is still there from the massage table, you have major hickey-age all over your back, you have on no makeup (because really what's the point when it hurts to lift your arms and it's all just going to get mussed up anyway) and since you are also an ugly crier you now look the part of a junkie, and without even trying.
And the last thing you tell your husband through your sobs is, "And I just bought every kind of junk food there is." And then he laughs, and so do you. Sometimes, it's the only way.
And then you go in there and buy that Dr. Pepper, you have it coming.