Fanny pack

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You guys. My body is falling apart. I’m getting old (I’m getting old). You knew that though. But I refused to believe it. Last week, I was carrying some groceries for my parents. Nothing major. Just some carrots and milk. And I felt a crick in my neck. Nothing major I thought. And I just carried on. When I got home, I suddenly found I couldn’t really move. Nothing major I thought. I applied ridiculous amounts of Voltarol (I should really buy shares in this stuff), put a microwave bag of that rice thing around my neck, told Chump I wasn’t feeling great and binge watched Bridgerton (https://www.netflix.com/gb/title/80232398). Thoughts on Bridgerton? Highly average. Entertaining enough, but Daphne looked like a teenager, Eloise looked like a grown lady. It was cast all wrong. But still, binge it I did. And I enjoyed it too.

I’ve now been watching Bridgerton for 8 hours straight and my neck still hurts.

Anyway, back to my neck, by Monday, it was still a bit painful. I did no exercise at all this whole week, kind of loafed around watching reruns of Mrs Maisel (best show ever by the way) (https://www.themarvelousmrsmaisel.com/) and worked in my pajamas. This is unusual for me. Normally, I am a fully functional human by 7:45am. I workout, I get my shit done. But this week, I couldn’t move. It was not fun. I did not appreciate my body giving up on me this week. And so I did what any reasonable human would do under these circumstances. I bought a fanny pack. Even just the name of a fanny pack is ridiculous. Fanny pack. In my country (Canada), fanny means bum. Yet in this country, fanny means something entirely different. I was shocked when Chump told me what fanny meant. And he begged me never to use the words Fanny pack again. Ok so what am I supposed to call this thing I bought? Apparently it’s called a cross body bag. It looks like a fanny pack to me. I feel like a tourist. Like one of those ridiculous tourists who wears a baseball cap, Mom jeans (Mom jeans) and ridiculous white trainers. Oh wait, that is what I wear. But my fanny pack is cool. It ain’t no loser fanny pack. It ain’t no tourist fanny pack. It’s a beauty. It’s this piece of work (Palermo Ultra Lightweight Cross-Body – Black / Gunmetal Hardware | KNOMO). It fits everything I need in it and it’s kind on my decrepit neck and shoulders. I am writing this post, while I am wearing my fanny pack, with that microwaveable rice pack slung across my shoulders. Instead of mom jeans, I am wearing pink snake skin jeans, red socks and green trainers. I really do look like a ridiculous tourist. I should actually be on the boardwalk on the Jersey Shore selling funnel cakes or something. If you ran into me, you would be embarrassed and I would be embarrassed. And now I am going to get a cup of tea, some raisin bread and watch Mrs Maisel. Bye.

what did you say about my fanny pack?

By the way, there is some form of tech issue with subscribers being notified of blog posts. I’m so sorry. I am working on it. For now, please bear with me. I am trying to get it fixed asap.

But if you do like what you read, remember to subscribe and share. Otherwise, I’m buying you all fanny packs for Christmas. Sorry, cross body bags.

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