stiff

I am brittle this morning. I dealt with a sore neck last weekend—spent the last few days of the move holding myself gingerly after sleeping on it wrong. It hadn’t quite fully reverted to normal when yesterday I took a nap at an angle and woke this morning with my head too heavy to lift off the pillow. Ow, damn. I wonder if I’ve been wrecking cars in my sleep. And walking to work, that, too, hobbles me. I get to the office and take off my sneakers and sit down heavily in my Susan-chair. When I stand some minutes later it has to be gingerly. I keep my neck stationary and I uncurl my legs just a bit at a time. My first few steps are uneven and slow. It makes me feel flimsy. But I should be feeling good. I should be. Yesterday I had a dumb afternoon and took that out on the world and on my neck by sitting in stiff silence. My boyfriend asked, ‘are you ok?’ and I said, ‘I should be, shouldn’t I?’ Yes, I should be. I will stick my head right back into the sand as soon as my neck stops hurting.