(i wrote this a few days ago)
in the cool (as in awesome) wake of my 31st birthday, i seem to have undergone another one of life's rites of passage. a lesser known, not quite as esteemed milestone as others out there, but, uh, er, which puts it kinda on the uneasy edge between curious and ever so slightly troubling. with a tinge of 'oh, that's what they mean by that.'
the road of life mile marker of which i speak of is none other than this: sleeping wrong. apparently, there is a correct and incorrect way to participate in this activity. i had, in my earlier years, heard of such potential but dismissed it as something with which i needn't concern myself with. until now, apparently. this particular instance of non success evokes the distant but clear voice of my high school english teacher and her encouraging, catered to high school thespian words of wisdom life advice: 'if you're gonna fail, fail big.' somewhere in the suburbs of portland, a high school theater director (eh, let's assume for the sake of this blog that she is in fact still there) is beaming with pride.
well, i suppose that after getting it 'right' 11,023ish times (not counting naps), one off ain't all that bad. in fact, i will go out on a limb and proclaim that those are pretty effing good odds. nonetheless, my 0.00908% deviation was painful enough for me to chauffeur myself via metro transit to my massage therapist whose diagnosis was, indisputably, comically, 'yeah, you probably just slept wrong.' deepest of tissue manipulation ensued. the result of which shall enable me, as soon as the soreness subsides, to once again bend at the waist (aka deepest hip flextion(sp?)) beyond a 90 degree angle (aka sitting) without considerable wincing or calling down of the saints/jesus christ. to that i say amen.
(NOTE: my MT, jen rice (aka the muscle whisperer) is a friggin' genius).