Stiff is the New Hard

 For some strange reason, Madonna once playfully suggested that as the title for her ‘Hard Candy’ album (another criminally-under-rated gem of hip-pop). It has absolutely nothing to do with this post, other than the stiff reference for my neck. I awoke last week feeling like I had slept the wrong way, and as the day wore on, my neck grew worse. Eventually I gave in to my first session of physical therapy, but the exercises given to me (which I performed religiously every two hours) only ended up making my neck feel awful, to the point where I could barely rise out of my work chair.

By lunch, I was almost in tears, and the tension of that added to the stress that probably started this whole wretched event in the first place. I walked over to my new favorite place, Stacks Espresso Bar, and had a decaf Americano. (Caffeine is the absolute last thing I need.) I sat there and heard one of those voices whispering in my ear:

Relax… relax…

Maybe it was not so much a voice in my head, but a wish and a prayer that I was imploring for myself. I paused, and remembered what it was like to enjoy the moment. An excellent cup of Americano sat before me, exquisitely rendered and better than anything at Starbucks. I sipped at its warmth, while the wind ran down the street outside the window. Puddles and dirty snow lined the sidewalk, as other people on their lunch break hurried past. Winter was passing too.

Not soon enough…

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