I can't get out of bed. My muscles are all - ALL rebelling against me in an attempt to turn me into mattress. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to p, and of the dang mailman was on a set schedule (I have to mail my therapy check!). He kind of breezes by when the mood strikes, it seems.
But the bigger issue I'm having is how to get up so I don't piss myself.
See that? That's the glamorous side of being disabled. I know you're jealous; it's okay.
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