That Kind Of Woman

First it’s the pain. One physical hurt can wreck the most charming of personality. Then it’s the logic in my head. It’s not logical to anyone else, so it causes more pain, this time, emotional. Then it’s the situation. Stuck at work, Iron chairs or a bar stool. Yes, I don’t have a swivel chair that supports my back, and conforms to my tush. No, I have and iron chair that is stiff, unbending, with a mere cushion between the little padding god gave me on my backside. Then it’s the fact I keep reliving stupid things I have done in the past week or so. 

It’s all just wooshing around my brain battering down my spine and taking place in a battle of epic proportions in my lower back. Now, I am grumpy, and lashing out.