It hurts to be back at school. Physically. So, literally, I suppose. Only I hate to use that word since I hear it misused so often. Most people I speak with can't tell a story without using it. For example, said type person (most all Americans these days) would have said "there are literally people who can't tell a story..." But I digress.
I am reminded daily when I write on my white board that my rotator cuff issues are not completely resolved, although I am much better than I was about a month or so ago. I would I am say 85% improved. I don't want to cry in the morning when I reach back to hook my bra, but I do wince a little when I fill my coffee maker with water. And when I write on the white board at school. But even then the pain is dwarfed by the bursitis in my hip.
By end of the day I would rather have another embarrassing first period sweating episode (akin to a hot flash but brought on by the stifling humidity in the building), during which I always feel like an SNL parody of myself, than hobble in hip pain. Probably the worst moment of my day is when I get to go home, and the lateral movement of my right leg required to get in the car begins an excruciating ride home to where I can rest.
But it's the weekend now. A well-deserved weekend. No sweating, wincing or hobbling allowed.
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