The World Didn't End

Yesterday, I started painting the Beacon Hill. The box has a pink and white house on the cover that I've been staring at for YEARS, so my own little house looked quite odd when I got the dark teal on the roof. You can't really tell what it will look, but I'm basing my color scheme on this San Franciscan dollhouse. I love the combination of dark teal, light blue, and maroon. Beautiful. I'm going to try to copy it.

I only started working on the paint because some of the trim for the roof would be nearly impossible to paint later if I don't do it now. This house is super light, so I picked it up and put it on the floor. Then I sat down and did the top of the roof -- easy as pie. But then I primed and painted underneath that trim stuff on the roof (you can't tell, but the underside of it is now all maroon). And then I hurt REALLY BAD.

My awful back has been acting up for about a month. This has been severely depressing. Every little move is painful. I've been using painkillers, muscle relaxers, heat, ice, laying flat, doing my PT exercises as best I can, and I even bought a brand new mattress. I went to the doctor and got a shot. Nope. Still hurting. Each day, it takes on a new form. It can go from 0 to 60 with one twist. It's sharp or achy or throbbing or pinching. Sometimes, my entire right hand goes numb. Good times.

I've had back problems for over a decade, so I know that this too shall pass (hopefully). But since it's been dark and I've been depressed lately, the back pain has nearly pushed me over the edge. And yesterday, all I wanted to do was throw on a few quick coats of paint in the morning while there was natural light shining in the house and then go on to my work day. Instead, I was a total idiot and cranked my body funny to peek up at that trim and paint it. When I tried to get up, I couldn't move. So I sat on the floor with my dollhouse and got all weepy. Come on, I just want to FEEL GOOD!

I sniffled. I pouted. I moaned to myself about how Little is coming for Christmas, and I want to be a HAPPY FUN AUNTIE for her, not a complaining, achy, stiff BOO HISS AUNTIE.

And then suddenly, it dawned on me that it was December 21, 2012, and the world hadn't ended. I was lying on the floor staring at the ceiling, and I started giggling.

Half the morning had passed, and I didn't even realize it was The Day. The Day the World Was Supposed to End. It's a good thing I didn't kill anyone thinking I'd be able to get away with it.

(Did I just say that out loud?)

Realizing that the world could have ended gave me a new outlook on my back situation. Instead of completely crumbling into a mess about it, I called up my doctor to get enough meds to get me through Christmas. I hauled myself up off the floor. I went to my parents' house for dinner and appreciated them. Pa was kind enough to come pick me up because A.) my driveway has a 3 foot snow drift on one side and B.) it hurts REALLY bad to get in and out of the Corolla right now (Pa has a CRV). Even though I was in pain, I was able to sit on the couch with my lovely Nerds nearby, have a wonderful dinner, and crochet a wee blanket for Little's doll.

I wanted to be OUT. I wanted to be SOCIALIZING. I wanted to be drinking a giant beer at the NEW WATERING HOLE (someone bought the watering hole and reopened it under a different name). I wanted to be PAIN FREE. I wanted to be CHEERFUL. But I kept myself in check. It's not the end of the world -- literally.

So even though I will be achy and probably a little bit growly this Christmas, I will be grateful that the world is still spinning, and I am still on it. It could be worse. The Mayans could have been right.