There are some days...

There are some days when you wonder if you should have got out of bed and there are days when you wonder why you bothered going to bed. These days and nights are when nothing seems to go to plan, or if there is no plan, nothing goes as well as one would hope. Last night I didn't want to go to bed. It seems I may have cracked my ribs around the back between the waist and the shoulder blade and lying down is not something that gives me comfort. However, I did lay my sore and sorry self down and then it was too painful to move and even worse getting up...swearing, whinging and whining did little to releive the pain, nor the frustration, but for some reason making others aware of the agony and suffering gives a certain degree of satisfaction. Selfish satisfaction where you are not going to let anyone else have a good day if you can't. So out of bed, trip over my own feet. Swear some more. Stumble to the loo, cursing all the way, oh what fun it is to wake, when the pain won't go away...yeah, well needless to say I'm not a happy camper. I have been coping with the chronic pain in the head, the depression, the disallusion in life, the poverty, the hunger, the....sorry forgot this isn't one of my novels.
The reason I am whaffling here is a) because I can and b) no one who reads it can do jack to help, but c) It satisfied my need for self pity -
So what was that about days we should stay in bed? Buggered if I know but had to start the whinging somewhere and it seemed a reasonable lead in. Now that you know how bad you could be, but aren't, go out and have a good day...You'll never get this day again.