Give me a B...

I hate baths.  I feel like a human stew.  I never get out of a bath and feel clean.  I could, however, stand in a shower for days.  If the hot water didn't give out.  My favorite is to take long, hot showers in the dark.  There is something so cathartic and familiar about being encompassed by warm water, darkness and the sound of the water drumming against my head.  And sometimes, when I need a super good cry - that's my go to venue.  But today has been B to the L to the A to the H.  And I'm prolly gonna go stew in a B to the A to the T to the H for a while.  Probably in more ways than one...

I don't have a good back.  Actually, I have a perfectly good back but I have not taken the best care of it.  I have poor posture - (sorry, Mom.  I never did sit up straight like you told me to) and I just don't lift from the knees nearly enough.  I spent quite a few years doing various jobs in the restaurant business and I will tell you that you can forget (the newly discovered mythical) dog years.  One year working in a restaurant ages your body 5 years.  Add to that that most people in the restaurant business smoke, drink and/or do drugs and that's not even a good 5 years.  That's rode hard and put away wet years.  I used to think that phrase had to do with horses but then I said it to my aunt once a few years ago and blushed because I wondered if it was actually naughty.  Anywho.  I'm told that exercise would help my back alot.  Uhm.  That goes against my discipline issue.  That's how bad my discipline and my stick-to-itiveness (I think Erin Brockovich coined that term) lacks.  This is something that I actually physically need and that still isn't enough to get me moving.  Also, this is my silent protest because I really feel that exercise is some sort of cult.  The people into it are nuts and they really want you to join in too.  Loonies. 

I woke up this morning and the tweaks that I was feeling in one section of my back started wandering around.  My back has gone out a couple of times.  I used to hear that and think it was the most ridiculous thing ever.  How does your back just stop working?  It's just hanging out being all vertical not doing much of anything else.  Ohhh the folly of youth.  The tingling has felt like some big time warning so I tried to take a pro-active stance of being inactive.  Uhm.  More inactiver than usual.  I started some dishes, made some cinnamon toast, poured some cereal, grabbed my coffee and settled in with the heating pad.  I kept that position  for pretty much the whole day.  It was a big hit in a house full of pressing things to do and take care of.  It would have been totally killer if I had been able to watch some show or movie on netflix that I could report on.  But I have kids and I can't watch most of what I find interesting or entertaining around them.  Look.  I'm not saying a show has to be all curse word this and nekkid that to be worthy of my time.  But there is a reason why those little letters and numbers pop up whenever a show comes on to let you know who it's appropriate for.  Many of my shows happen to include the whole "may not be suitable for children under 14" disclaimer.  And also, I like that disclaimer because it reminds that age group that they are, indeed, still children.  I will tell you that I did watch about 5 or so minutes of Cake Boss.  I like Duff's crew better.  So, I got the satisfaction of deleting something out of the instant watch queue.  Which still has about 165 titles in it.  I also watched about 5-10 minutes of Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern.  I have no idea what happened between the first season and this last one but ewwww.  I have found it very fascinating in the past and it seems as though it has become a forum for just how disgusting can this food be for him to eat it.  I don't have a particularly squeamish stomach but I actually had to turn it off.  It was churning me up inside.  I give both these shows 2 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  There is some dang fine reality programming out there.  But this ain't it - for me. 

I did try a new Chex Mix today.  It was the Honey Nut variety and it was absolutely worth every bit of the free-ness no cost-ness I paid for it.  I might even say it would have been worth it at twice the price.  Seriously.  I don't know why there are now 11teen different varieties of Chex Mix.  I don't know why, if something works, it has to be worked on.  I don't know why you would take a Bugle and try to make it into a sweet snack.  I don't get these things.  But I do know that if I have a coupon for it, I'll try just about anything - not Andrew Zimmern style but still.  And trying stuff for free is all but a hobby of mine.  What does that phrase actually mean?  All but...  It's everything except for?  That is never how one means it when they say "all but".  That's a puzzler, that is.  But I'll give this Chex Mix flavor 6 out of 10 Jenny's jewels.  I'm thinking back on it and I can't recall a nut, making this name a bit suspect.  And really, old school chex mix that you made yourself with the scalding butter and all the seasonings will never be beaten out by the stuff they are churning out at the same factory that makes the cereal that goes into the old school chex mix... whoa.  Better stop right there or I might blow a fuse thinking that one through.

So, how does this all fit together - this disclosure about bathing habits and my bum back and such.  Well, if you really need it all pointed out for you here it is... Blah, bath and back (and bum for that matter) all begin with the letter b.  And I'm taking this blah day and ending it with my back sitting around in a bath of hot water and hoping for different day tomorrow.  I've got some major deadlines and some major commitments that I need to make good on.  And that's just y'all.  On top of that, I have appointments to make and receipts to find and you know, life!

I'm giving a pre-emptive 7.5 out of 10 Jenny's jewels to this plan.  I'm still not going to feel clean when I get out of the tub and I will definitely still be taking a shower in the morning to wake up and get the dog stank off me because the big one likes to use the little one as a chew toy and gets drool all over his head and then he curls up next to me and gets his crunchy dry drool hair on my face and hands and such.  I might also get it on my hands because he is still soft and cuddly and rubbing on a dog is pretty cathartic as well even if you are rubbing dried drool hair.  I'm hoping it's his dry drool hair I'm smelling and not my own.  Anywho.  B to the U to the H to the B to the Y to the E.