I went to turn off my alarm clock yesterday morning and I pulled a muscle in my arm in the process.
I'll give you a minute to let that sink in.
Reached for the alarm clock...
...pulled a muscle.
In my defence, I was facing away from said clock with two sizable kitties sleeping on my legs. (My cats are Maine Coons which means they are of the large-and-in-charge variety.) Rolling over wasn't really an option unless I wanted the hairball of death coughed up on the bedspread. Some slight hyperextension may have occurred. (It totally did; I felt it the exact moment when my elbow went that little bit too far.)
It was pretty much back to normal within a few hours but there were the occasional twinges when it reminds me of what I did. Usually when I go to lift something heavier than my jacket.
I've tried to explain to it that I'm sorry, could it please stop twinging? But it's having none of it. Maybe I should have just faced up to the hairball of death.
Summer arrived in Victoria, stuck around for about a week, and then decided it was vacation time. From a let's-go-do-sh!t point of view, I'm really bummed. From a hey-we're-running-outside-three-times-a-week point of view, I'm actually okay with it (just don't tell my fellow Victorians). I'm not a heat person and running with an overcast sky and a temperature that struggles to routinely hit 20C is fine by me.
Still, I would like to go camping at some point this summer (in the sense of "summer is a specific time of year", not "it's summer weather. Because it's totally not!) and for me camping = tent (because I'm old school, yo!). There's nothing fun about camping when the weather's like this.
Except maybe the built-in excuse to stay in your sleeping bag and just drink all day.