sarahcentric

Don’t worry. I definitely strained my neck when I turned off the bathroom faucet last night.

If I had not been distracted talking to my friend Andrew while I twisted the hot and cold nozzles tighter to stop the annoying drip, would I have realized I was pushing my body to what are, apparently, extreme limits? Who can say. But what’s even worse is that all Andrew and I did was shout our favorite quotes from HBO’s beyond-hilarious new show Summer Heights High back and forth to each other. This may have been excusable, except that we have already had this “conversation” at least three times this week. When Summer Heights High came up again for the fourth time today, Andrew finally put his foot down, “Look, we seriously need to stop talking about it. When we get started, we obviously can’t stop.”

Unfortunately, the moratorium came too late. The damage was done. I pulled some tiny neck/ shoulder/arm muscle business. I don’t know its medical name, but I’m pretty sure it’s responsible for holding up the weight of my entire pumpkinhead above my body.

I woke up in the middle of the night thinking my big brother or sister showed up to torture me with the notorious Older Sibling Pincher of Power. You know the move…when they zap you with their evil, powerful fingers right in the fleshy part between your shoulders and your head and all you can do is spazz out? Well, spazz out I did! The only way I could get slightly comfortable was to prop my unbelievably heavy head on every pillow I could find. It’s not nearly as comfortable as you might think. Only one person could possibly understand my discomfort last night; Sayuri, from Memoirs of a Geisha.

Trust me. I know. I have watched that movie at least 1000 times because my sister insists that we watch it every single time it’s on Starz. When poor Sayuri gets her hair done, Mrs. Nitta (the mistress at the geisha dorm…think of her as an opium smoking Mrs. Garrett.), insists that she balance her head on some ancient Japanese wood hairstand thing so she won’t ruin it in her sleep.

Sayuri, I am so sorry. How could I allow myself to be dazzled by your gorgeous kimonos and your true love, the handsome Chairman when all the while your poor neck was on fire?! When you threw your geisha glances over your shoulder, how could I not see that it was probably the only direction your lame neck would go?! It was so obvious!!

All I can do now, Sayuri, is send you tons of good Metta hoping it will come back to heal my sh–ty neck. I hope and pray that bitch Mrs. Nitta had at least enough compassion to have Motrin on hand and ordered Chinese take-out to make you feel comfy and better.

Or…Japanese. Whatever works.