Weird Thoughts and Whatnot

On Friday night, I couldn’t sleep so I started composing this week’s blog post in my head. As you may recall, I’ve been seeing this acupuncturist/chiropractor type guy for my chronic shoulder pain, and I’d given up on the acupuncture on the grounds that lying on my stomach with needles in my back for an indeterminate amount of time was stressful. So a few weeks ago, I went and asked to resume shock wave therapy (which is NOT electroshock therapy, just to be clear—it’s a type of air-compressor driven jackhammer that’s theoretically supposed to break up the calcium in your tendons), and his response was “No problem, kid.” And let me just remind you that the acupuncturist/chiropractor type guy is probably in his early thirties if that, and I am a woman who is quite beyond middle age and in no way, shape, or form, a kid. (Slight tangent: as I was composing this in my head, I was calculating how old I would have to be if 58 was middle-aged and realized that there was NO WAY I would get to see 116 years old unless there was some kind of modern medical miracle that occurred during the next few years, and then I started calculating how much time I had left and the answer to that was BEST CASE SCENARIO 25-30 YEARS and then I freaked myself out at how short a time that seemed and then I had to wander the house in an existential panic until I could go back to bed. Second slight tangent: I have a very dear aunt who has always called me “kiddo” ever since I can remember, and that’s fine because she’s older than me and she’s family and also she reads my blog and I don’t want her to think I don’t like it when SHE calls me kiddo).

At any rate, I’ve become increasingly—I don’t know, it’s like a simultaneous combination of amused and annoyed—by his constant sobriquets and Peleton style encouragement:

“You did amazing today, kid!”
“You’re a trooper—great job!”
“Fantastic work today, milady!”

And so on. And it would be awesome and cool if I actually DID anything aside from lying on my stomach and counting to 600 very slowly until he comes back to take the needles out; otherwise it just seems like hollow praise. But then last week, I arrived just as he was coming out of his treatment room and he greeted me thusly: “Uh oh, here comes trouble!”

I looked behind me to see who he was talking to, but it became quickly apparent that IT WAS ME. Me? Trouble?! Does he not know me at all? As we all know, I don’t have a single real bad-ass bone in my body! But then, at this point in the mental composition of this blog post in my bed, I started to fall asleep, and dreamed that I was writing about a couple who made cute pet videos and in one of them, a cat got mad at a dog for sniffing her, and the caption in the video read, “Stop touching my genitalia with your nose!” and then it occurred to me both in the dream and as I began to wake up again that the word “genitalia” doesn’t sound anything at all like what it is; in fact, it sounds like an old-fashioned word for something very festive, like if you said that “the whole regiment was decked out in their best genitalia” or “the halls were festooned with merry genitalia” or whatnot. And the whole thing was so funny when I pictured it that I laughed out loud, and Ken rolled over and muttered, “What?” and I said, “You’re snoring again” and he went back to sleep while I kept silently giggling just like a little kid and maybe my acupuncturist/chiropractor guy is right about me being trouble.

Did you say trouble?

56 thoughts on “Weird Thoughts and Whatnot”

  1. Absolutely loving this post! You know, it’s funny—I actually like being referred to as a kid now, even though I’m 44. It’s a complete 180 from how I felt when I was *actually* a kid; back then, I couldn’t stand it. But now, I take it as a compliment. I guess it’s because I still look pretty young, and I like to think I’ve maintained a youthful heart. There’s something about having a fresh perspective and outlook on life that keeps me feeling vibrant and alive. 🙂

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  2. See, I don’t mind being called kid by someone from the younger generation. Getting carded when I buy liquor make me chuckle sometimes because the cashiers that do ask, are way younger than I am. My former dentist use to say that I was trouble too, and I never understood why. I think if you didn’t have that self-paranoia you go through every so often, we would never hear about your adventures on you blog, lol. Laughing out loud in the middle of the night is hilarious and Ken not thinking twice about it is even funnier 🤣.

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  5. “Trouble” or “troubled”? (dig, dig).

    I’d place the number of clever ideas I’ve had—while falling asleep or during deep night awakenings, and subsequently forgotten—above a thousand. Nearly nightly these days. Do I endure the light and fuss and write them down? Nah, I’ll just chant it over and over, drill it into my memory.
    Poof!
    What the hell was that wicked idea I had?

    TIL: Had to lookup ‘sobriquets’. I wonder if I’ll remember what it means tomorrow.

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  7. Yeah, there needs to be a kind but generic greeting between ma’am and kid. And “here comes trouble,” we’ll, that’s just troubling! When we’d have these ARD meetings for my son when he was still in public school, it was always weird when the teachers and school district staff would refer to me as “the mother.” 🙄
    Fun post, Suzanne! Mona

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  8. My husband told me “Good job, Sport!” yesterday after I finished stacking wood. My response: “Thanks, Dad.” Yeesh. I figure I have 20-25 years left, Suzanne. It’s a panic-worthy realization for sure. Have a great day, kiddo. 😀

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  10. My husband calls me “kid” sometimes which I think is weird but it is meant as a term of endearment and he is 6 years older than I am. I tend to use kiddo when talking to my daughters or nieces and probably will forever. What a nice picture of Atlas!

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  12. I’ve been called “sir” and even “mister” since I was in college and I’ve always tried to come up with snappy responses like, “Mister Waldrop is my father, you can call me Spunky The Wonder Squid” or “Don’t call me sir and don’t call me late for dinner.”
    Of course most of the time the moment passes before I can use one of those so I rarely get to trot them out. Being called “Trouble” is wonderful but I still would want to come back with something like “Oh no, I’m Toil—Trouble couldn’t make it.”

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  14. I am dying crying. OMG that is hilarious.
    With regards to freaking yourself out, I have been there. I hate looking forward because now it’s like well I am going to die. I hate thinking of T getting older because it means I get closer to death. I have freaked myself out many many a time.

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  16. ohno those middle of the night ruminations – they don’t call it the witching hour for nothing… as for sobriquets – love the word! – it’s all about intention for me – I don’t like feeling like someone is trying to merely manipulate me… (haha punny…)

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  20. -grin- this post made me smile, as if always does, but on a serious point – have you had your shoulder checked out for ‘Frozen shoulder’?
    I had shoulder problems some years ago and tried chiropractic and acupuncture too. Didn’t work. Finally got to the point I had to get it seen to by a doctor. The treatment is not pleasant, I won’t lie, BUT it is a one-off event, and it /does/ work. I’ve been pain free every since.

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