Me with my busted tailbone means a really short blog today. Even the donut pillow isn’t giving me much relief! And yes, my poor family has to hear about it, constantly. 🙂

Ugh. My desk is covered with paint palettes, unopened mail, an opened package of fabric glue, which I need to put away, a couple of empty water glasses. I wonder if I can make my daughter feel bad about the mess I don’t want to clean up. Yeah, like she doesn’t have a nasty house with mud trails from the kids coming inside after playing in the melting snow. Goodness, I even found a little stuffed dog the seven-year-old parked on my desk. Must mean it has a hole I’m supposed to sew up. Doesn’t she know I don’t want to do anything?

How soon can I go back to bed?

That’s how my day is going to be. Me sitting for a minute, whining about the mess around me, then moving gingerly back to the bed to ease onto the mattress. Wonder what wonderful thing I can watch to while away the day and forget about the fact the cats are leaving their hair all over the end of my bed. Do you think it would be a stretch to ask my dd to change my bedding? I guess I won’t ask. I’m not very skilled at guilting her into doing things. She says I have “good years” left, so I better to put them to “good” use. Yeah, she’s my girl.

This is what I aspire to do today—if only I could sit…

Isn’t that the greatest picture of a couch potato ever?

So, any advice for the woman who isn’t comfortable sitting, lying, or walking? My dd has cut me off from the good pharmaceuticals.