My Insomnia, Hypochondria, Paranoia, and General Bitterness Combined to Make it a LOOONG Night.

Last night as I lay wide awake and listened to the Hubby SNORE like a motherfucker, I realized that my neck was a little sore.  I've started working out again and developed an awesomely fun case of plantar fasciitis (which is Latin for "asshole foot stabby pain") so I've been going to a "wellness center" for ART (which is acronym for "I'm going to massage and poke you til you bruise" aka "active release therapy".)

Anyway, I'm going off track here a moment to tell you I'm terrified of chiropractors because I firmly believe that neck and back bones should not make those God-awful cracking noises when they break adjust you. So I've never gone to one.  Ever.  And I don't regret it.

Back on topic.  At my ART appointment on Saturday, the doctor got a wild hair up his ass and decided to "adjust" me without prior notice or permission.  Kind of like when the mood strikes the Hubby to fondle me without prior notice or permission, but less fun.

He popped my back, which felt surprisingly good.  He cracked up my hips, which was lovely.  Cracking those two areas didn't scare the shit out of me.  I was pleased.

THEN, then you guys.... he started massaging my shoulders and neck.  I'm a massage whore.  I will do just about anything for a massage.  I went in with a stabby foot arch and was getting a neck massage and oh holy Mother of the Baby Jesus I was in love with ART and the doctor.

That motherfucker held my head in his hands and cracked my neck.
He cracked up my neck vertebrae.
Panic attack much?
He snuck in a neck crack and even though it didn't hurt, it scared the hell out of me.

So last night as I lay there feeling my sore neck and listening to the Hubby snore like a freight train, my hypochondria went running wild.
CLEARLY something is broken in my neck...
OR a vein/vessel/artery was torn and I'm hemorrhaging into my brain....
OR the neck cracking let loose a clot that had traveled from my leg and has now entered my brain.....
OR my spinal cord is being squeezed by my vertebrae and I'll be paralyzed by dawn.

All this paranoia combined with my hatred of all things snoring Hubby ruined my night of sleep.
I sent him to Bossy Girl's room since she was sleeping in Wee One's room.
His snoring wasn't to be stopped by mere drywall, however.

I lay awake until about 2:00 a.m. plotting his punishment along with my funeral.

I'm tired today you guys.

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