I woke up Sunday morning with the kind of back pain that makes you question every life decision that led you to that exact moment.
Not “Oh, I slept funny.”
Not “Maybe I pulled something.”
I’m talking about the kind of pain where you sit up in bed and immediately start negotiating with every deity you’ve ever heard of.
Sciatica had apparently checked my calendar, seen that I have a trip coming up this week, a flight to catch, several hours of driving ahead of me, work responsibilities I absolutely need to finish before Thursday, and decided:
“Yeah. This seems like the perfect time.”
By 7:00 AM, muscle relaxers had already entered the chat.
That’s never a good sign.
The timing couldn’t be worse. We’re leaving Thursday. Some of this trip involves driving. The route to the airport isn’t exactly around the corner, and when I checked traffic updates this morning I discovered that the universe has thoughtfully sprinkled road construction all along the route just to make things more exciting.
Because apparently excruciating nerve pain wasn’t enough.
I swear, every time I think I’ve got all my ducks in a row, life releases a rabid alligator into the duck pen.
Meanwhile, I am supposed to be functioning as an IT professional today.
Let’s discuss why this may not be in anyone’s best interest.
If I seem distracted, it’s because every movement feels like someone attached jumper cables to my lower back and connected them directly to my sciatic nerve.
Honestly, my professional recommendation for today is simple:
Unplug all the goddamned computers.
Turn them off.
Walk away.
We’ll try again tomorrow.
You do not want your IT tech operating under these conditions.
The irony is that my actual job isn’t even particularly stressful right now. I’m mostly reviewing calls, compiling information, watching data, and generally doing work that should be manageable.
But pain doesn’t care.
Pain doesn’t care about deadlines.
Pain doesn’t care about vacation plans.
Pain doesn’t care about airport schedules.
Pain doesn’t care that you’ve already got enough on your plate.
Pain just shows up, kicks the door in, flips over the furniture, and announces that it lives here now.
And honestly?
I’m tired.
Not just physically tired.
Soul tired.
The kind of tired that comes from months of one thing after another.
Health issues.
Breathing issues.
Migraines.
Stress spikes that show up for no apparent reason.
Buying a house.
Preparing for a move.
Trying to stay healthy.
Trying to stay employed.
Trying to stay creative.
Trying to be a decent human being while your body is actively plotting against you.
At some point you start looking up at the sky and asking:
“Can we maybe stop pushing back now?”
Just for a little while?
Can I have one week where nobody is on fire, nothing hurts, no paperwork is due, no surprise expenses appear, and my skeleton agrees to participate in the activities I’ve planned?
Just one.
That’s all I’m asking.
For now, I’ll keep taking the muscle relaxers, keep stretching, keep moving when I can, and keep reminding myself that flare-ups eventually pass.
Even when they feel endless.
Especially when they feel endless.
But if you happen to see me limping through an airport later this week looking like a Victorian ghost who’s been cursed by an angry chiropractor, mind your business.
I’m doing my best.
And my best currently looks a lot like hobbling around while muttering profanity under my breath.
Sciatica wins this round.
But I’m still getting on that fucking plane.
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