Join me in the pain party

I found this and couldn't resist posting it. He hasn't been around much so I'm thinking that Rochester is holed up in a green tree somewhere composing more poetry or singing to the birds. He'd have to sing, there's no room in there for a piano.

I am in pain. It's taken me days to realize why I'm in pain and how stupid it is to do things when I'm old that I didn't even think about when I wasn't.  All those 40 degree days, surely they're over now, but to keep the house cool I would pull all the blinds right down, shut doors to rooms and generally it worked. But at night I would have to get the blind up in my room to open the window. And there is the problem, stupid ex with his heavy hand managed to destroy every spring in all the rollers blinds in the house. I did replace one or two until nobody knew what a roller blind was let alone the spring. 
So I'm standing on tiptoe and rolling up the blinds by hand. Wasn't difficult a few years back but we didn't have too many unholy temperature days in a row and I was taller then. I've shrunk a few inches. Blind in the bedroom is 10 feet long in old money, lounge still has a spring and is 12 feet, hallway, no spring is 8 feet, kitchen, no spring 6 feet, second bedroom, no spring, 8 feet but I just shut that door. The study I fixed up ages ago by putting up drapes and cutting the roller blind to the roller and threading the lace curtain on to that which fitted inside the window.
I've stretched beyond limits, anything and everything that connects my shoulders to my neck and spine. Fortunately I didn't tear anything beyond repair. That would have been real pain so once I figured out the cause it was Panadol every four hours and lots of moaning, snivelling and sobbing.  All those great things one can do aloud when living alone. But I still couldn't work out why, once it calmed down, the pain would grab again. Bingo, don't let a cold fan blow across hurting things since they'll go into spasm and start pain rage all over again.  It's quiet now but I think I've possibly given my liver major damage since I always forget if the four hours since the last pills are actually up.

And to top it off the cat got mugged.  I didn't hear a cat fight or scream but then I had shovelled a couple or more of sleeping pills down. He was covered in filth, not sand when I brushed him down but sandy grease so I presume he hid under the car. I found that out when I was operating on him on my white doona cover but brave little lamb let me cut away the fur to see the damage. Well, something with a very big gob put two fangs into his shoulder and two directly opposite under his armpit ? legpit ? I think the chomp on the bone hurt more than anything else and the wounds are clean. He's had his calming water brushed into his fur and his calming drops in food and now he's grounded. He can go out in the morning but night time is barred, consequently after all my gentle treatment, he's not speaking to me. 

Now a whine about hernextdoor and her concept of personal space. I rarely get inside her front door, usually I'm borrowing something from husband's realm in the garage and dressed in my household rags and looking like a bag lady. Still, this morning I'd been up, fed the beast, put the washing machine on which didn't go on, power outage so I went back to bed and warmed up the hurting back. I heard the front gate creak, which is why I don't oil it, cheap alarm system. I thought it probably was the BOH and some one did come in the back door, that's right in the back door through the lounge to the light switch, not put her hand round the open back door and try the outside light switch but through my house. She didn't want to disturb me, she says. If I had done that to her she would have had me on trespass charges.  Karma's a bitch, she has an all electric house and the electricity didn't come back on until midday and it had been off since 2 a.m.. I hope she was gasping for a cuppa and had a cold shower.