Lately, it would seem that I have been focusing a little … or a lot … on my dislike of housework … and my preference for doing pretty well anything else.
Yesterday I proved once and for all … beyond any doubt … reasonable or unreasonable … that housework is very, very bad for your health.
At some point … during the vacuuming … or the scrubbing of toilets … or the dusting … or the laundry … I managed to tweak, pull, stretch or pulverise a muscle in my neck and/or shoulder. It has left me with the unfortunate restriction of being able to look neither left nor right … and only straight ahead in complete and utter discomfort.
I spent the entire afternoon bemoaning my painful predicament to all and sundry.
All and sundry studiously ignored me.
So I knew I was on my own … dire predicaments call for dire measures … it was time to self medicate.
I hunted through the medicine stash for something super strength and came upon some tablets from several years ago when I had suffered a similar affliction. I knew they were good ones … cause they were ones that have to be handed out by a pharmacist. They were a year or so out of date … but you know what I said about dire situations … and I popped a couple of those beauties.
They may have been painkillers … they may have been horse tranquillisers … either way I slept the sleep of the comatose … and knew nothing more until 9:30 this morning.
In summary … housework is clearly the work of the devil … and really, truly should be avoided at all costs … for the sake of your health people … heed the warning.