Sometimes I really hate living inside of me
Sometimes I really hate living inside of me. In addition to walking four miles each day, I’ve been working out at the gym. My reward? I pulled my back out on Saturday, innocently bending down to pick something off my kitchen floor. That’s punishment enough. But where my obsessive mind goes with these things is much, much worse. “Funk, I pulled my back out!” “I’m sorry darling.” “No Funk, it’s really bad this time. What if I slipped a disc?” “Gloria, you’re fine. That’s just your mind getting the best of you.” “How do you know Funk? For all you […]