Sunday Night Pain

Rob’s writing about pain on a Sunday night. Why? Is he watching Fear the Walking Dead or something? No. That’s not for a couple of weeks. We are still safe.

No, I’m talking about exercise. I still have 24 minutes to do today and I only have 2.5 hours left. My legs are killing me. My back is killing me. Everything is killing me.

Fear isn’t on, but the main show is on. Shits getting weird at the Commonwealth, right? There is 25 minutes left in tonight’s show so I can probably finish my 24 minutes of exercise during the commercial breaks. Har Har Har.

Work was rough on Friday. It spilled over into Saturday. I didn’t hear anything today. Hopefully nothing happened. I’m out tomorrow because I’m taking my mother to a doctor’s appointment. That means I’m worried about work and worried about her at the same time. It could be a fun morning, right?

I don’t feel any negative effects of Covid-19 vax shot #4. Here’s hoping it stays that way.

Okay, the Zombies are back on. No spoilers, but who woulda thought that Daryl was Rick’s father. What a twist!