My Maniacal Misfit Menagerie

Remember that old Eddie Rabbitt song I Love a Rainy Night? God I loved that song because I absolutely agreed with him. What better way to fall asleep than to listen to rain falling on the roof with thunder in the background. There's nothing like a good storm to cleanse the soul. Except, I hate the rain now. I can feel it before it even gets here. All of my muscles start to stiffen. I begin to feel like I'm 90 years old hobbling around doing a poor penguin impression. The other night at work was the worst. We were half way through a biblical flood and I arrived feeling less than fantastic. By the time I was a couple of hours in, I thought I might become a patient myself. Sharp shooting pain was radiating from both sides of my spine down my butt and into my thighs. My hips felt like I had rocks in them. The skin around my upper arms, collar bone and chest felt like it was on fire. My feet felt like I had been running around in narrow heels 4 sizes too small for me. Let's no...

Just over a year ago, my husband took me to New Orleans for a surprise anniversary trip. I had never been and we were only going for the weekend, so I decided that we would need to average about 46.279 tourist stops a day to cram in a small portion of what I wanted to do down there. It was Friday night, so I figured Bourbon Street would be a great place to hang out. Saturday morning I wanted to wake up early and try this charming cafe that sold beignets. We got off the plane, checked into our hotel, and my downward spiral began. I felt like someone had attached a vacuum to me and sucked out all of my energy. Just moving was an almost insurmountable task. To be fair, I work nights, so I assumed I was just a little "off". No big deal. Bourbon Street would still be there tomorrow. We didn't wake up quite as early as I planned, but we still made it for my beignets. Holy moly. Well worth the trip! We managed to do a couple of things here and there, but not nearly as much as I...