bitch, bitch, bitch, complain, complain, complain

I swore to myself I wasn't going to post until I had something to say that wasn't about my various aches and pains. But, honest to Pete, when you've had a head/neck/backache since Sunday to the point that you have accomplished nothing of value because you feel too much like chipped death on toast to bother, shouldn't your body have the common sense god gave a bowl of guacamole and not sleep on its stomach?

And now I'll shut up again.