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Dear readers, I had a tough time coming up with something to blog about today. This happens more often than I care to admit. But this time it was bad — the sort of writer’s block that can really mess you up. All weekend I tried to come up with something for my Monday post, but my brain was blank.

But then it hit me. Like a knife in my neck.

No, seriously… it really felt like a knife was stabbed into the side of my neck.

Let’s start from the beginning. This past Saturday morning, I woke up from what I thought was a great night’s sleep. I opened my eyes, thanked God for another beautiful day, and tried to get up out of bed. And that’s when I felt it — THE KNIFE IN MY NECK!

This story could really use some more colorful words, maybe a thesaurus. But the bottom line is that I injured myself… in my sleep. So much so that I literally couldn’t turn my head to the left, and barely to the right. I couldn’t sit in certain positions on the couch. I couldn’t wash my hair properly in the shower. And, much to my frustration, I definitely couldn’t sleep the following two nights. Which brings me to today, begging the question: How fast were my eyes moving during REM to cause such a horrific injury to my neck, shoulder and back?

Suffice it to say, I feel old today. I feel well beyond my 31 years. (Had to double check the passport on that one.) I feel like perhaps I shouldn’t have been so quick to say no to the 55-year-old potential suitor I was recently introduced to. I feel like I should stay home today for fear that at any moment I could break a hip. I feel like the universe woke me up this morning with a hearty, “Good morning! You’re old and alone!”

I’ve been teased ad nauseam over that one time when I was eight years old and suffered an injury during a particularly intense hula hooping competition in my front yard. At least I was moving! At least I was doing my best Shakira impression instead of just sleeping. (Albeit, the injury was a broken wrist, but that’s neither here nor there.)

So, as you can tell, today’s post is nothing deep, nothing profound, nothing that will shake the earth you’re standing on. It’s just me coming to the not-so-sudden realization that I am getting older. My body is not the same as it used to be. My reflexes are less like a cat, more like a cast member of the original run of the Broadway musical CATS… at their current age. My ability to bounce back after an injury is, well, yet to be determined. As I type, I have my Babushka Tania’s homemade heating pad resting on my left shoulder, and I’m holding my laptop at a very precise 37-degree angle to alleviate shooting pains… LIKE KNIVES TO MY NECK, PEOPLE! (Okay, okay. I’ll stop now.)

Which leads me to my next point. I’ve talked about this before, but I’ll say it again: It would be nice to have someone here to take care of me right about now. Considering it took me 12 minutes to figure out how to not-so-gracefully roll out of bed this morning… considering clipping my bra closed might as well be child birth at this point… considering I’m being a big baby and feel like I deserve to just vent once in a while… NOW would be a great time to be in a relationship.

Because in my life, I’ve got to go it all alone. I live by myself in a little studio apartment. I do my own laundry, cooking, cleaning and grocery shopping. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m an independent woman! (“All the women who are independent, throw your hands up at me…”)

But right now, in this moment, I would gladly give up some of that independence. I’ll take down my flag, I’ll lower my rifle. I’ll give up half my space, half my stuff, half my money. I’ll even throw out my Destiny’s Child album. Just get over here and massage my neck already!

Being in a relationship must be nice. Knowing someone will take care of you when you’re sick or hurt or just being a diva must be nice. But, even in the midst of my (literal) pain, I see something more. Perhaps it’s the woman in me, perhaps the romantic in me. But, I imagine, being able to give that care in return must be the best part of it all. And for that I cannot wait.

~Ruth