So post wedding my picking has been OUT of control. Like the worst in a long time. Doctors of all sorts have yelled at me. Joe has yelled at me. You know what got me to lay off of it? My back going out. Apparently pain is pain. And if my back is doing level 10 stabby stabby pains, my urge to pick is nil. My Back is now down to level 5 – so more the occasional twang, than the if I breath wrong my back might snap. The urges have mostly died back.
It’ll be curious to see if it ramps up as the back progresses.
On the flip side I had 2 big moments of clarity last week: I never want to be on portable oxygen on a day to day basis. (So now I need to get my heart healthy, thanks Florence.) I want to be a good role model for Amelia. That means not scarring my self, being fiscally responsible, and getting healthy so that by the time she came run around so can I.
Pain is in deed a funny thing.