I ricked my back the other night in bed.
No, I wasn't doing THAT - I'm a married man with kids and therefore sexytime is usually only on my birthday or hers. As we share the same birthday, she's very happy with that arrangement!
So however I did it (probably when she kicked me in the back then wrapped herself in the duvet like a sausage roll while I was rolling across the bedroom floor) I now have a really bad back. What hasn't helped is then going on a train journey to London (you can't really lie down in the aisle of a speeding Virgin train) and spending all day sat in uncomfortable chairs in meetings (lying under the boardroom table is frowned upon). So I just had to pop Ibuprofen tablets and walk home bent double like Quasimodo once I extricated myself from the train seat.
I'm booked in to a chiropractor on Thursday but in the meantime bedtime means a futon mattress on the floor (which Mrs B is suggesting should be the nighttime regimen from now on) and gentle stretching exercises (like having to mow the lawn and cut the hedge on Saturday which did no end ofharm good for my shattered back).
But the other downside is that painting is pretty impossible at the moment. Sat hunched over a desk is quite probably the worst thing I could be doing and its pretty painful as well. That's not to say I don't keep on doing it (them 6mm ancients don't paint themselves) but I can only do 15 minute stints before the Ibuprofen wears off and I'm Quasimodo for another half hour.
So the painting factory has closed down for the immediate future. Hopefully the back manipulator will get me fighting fit before the weekend.
No, I wasn't doing THAT - I'm a married man with kids and therefore sexytime is usually only on my birthday or hers. As we share the same birthday, she's very happy with that arrangement!
So however I did it (probably when she kicked me in the back then wrapped herself in the duvet like a sausage roll while I was rolling across the bedroom floor) I now have a really bad back. What hasn't helped is then going on a train journey to London (you can't really lie down in the aisle of a speeding Virgin train) and spending all day sat in uncomfortable chairs in meetings (lying under the boardroom table is frowned upon). So I just had to pop Ibuprofen tablets and walk home bent double like Quasimodo once I extricated myself from the train seat.
I'm booked in to a chiropractor on Thursday but in the meantime bedtime means a futon mattress on the floor (which Mrs B is suggesting should be the nighttime regimen from now on) and gentle stretching exercises (like having to mow the lawn and cut the hedge on Saturday which did no end of
But the other downside is that painting is pretty impossible at the moment. Sat hunched over a desk is quite probably the worst thing I could be doing and its pretty painful as well. That's not to say I don't keep on doing it (them 6mm ancients don't paint themselves) but I can only do 15 minute stints before the Ibuprofen wears off and I'm Quasimodo for another half hour.
So the painting factory has closed down for the immediate future. Hopefully the back manipulator will get me fighting fit before the weekend.