I am by no means old. I’m 24. I have not found a gray hair on top of my head, or the slightest trace of a wrinkle. I easily get carded when I’d like to purchase delicious alcoholic beverages, and I always get that question, “So what college are you looking to go to?” I’m constantly mistaken for a teenager. So I’m sure you’re wondering what on earth I could possibly be complaining about?
My entire body. Hurts. I woke up yesterday morning unable to move my arms, legs, neck, and shoulders without wanting to cut off my body parts. I don’t know what happened.
I strolled into bed in a drunken stupor after playing Cards Against Humanity and sucking at life during Trivial Pursuit after eating a disgusting amount of tacos and guacamole, and woke up the next morning practically needing a wheelchair. Every bone cracked and wheezed and snapped (this isn’t new, but it wasn’t pleasant like it usually is).
This has only happened a few times, and I still have not figured out the pattern to my crippled-ness. Was it the Fireball Whiskey? Was it the horrible amount of guacamole and chips? The intensity of Trivial Pursuit? What? Somebody, inform me why I occasionally wake up as if I’ve been strapped to a metal bed in an insane asylum?
I start to wonder what it will be like when I’m 40, or 60. Will I be able to walk? I guess there are some perks to being crippled when you’re as lazy as me.
1. Endless amount of back rubs.
“Ah, you know, my back is killing me. Can you just massage me for 30 minutes? I really need this.”
2. Being a couch potato.
Chores? What chores? My thighs are burning. I guess I have to watch this Sex and the City marathon today instead.
3. Comfort food.
No, I don’t want a salad to soothe my stiff neck. Give me that ice cream to make me feel better.
So excuse me while I limp the 2 mile run I have to do tonight and then slip under the covers and curl into a ball like my cat for the rest of the evening.