The past couple of days have found me helping lay a hardwood floor. I love the work, the work doesn't like me. I have a "friend" who decided to join in with the work, Arther Ritis. Actually he isn't much help at all, and just gets in the way.
I made it through the first day... barely. The first four hours were fine, and after that, it was all downhill from there. We made the mistake of taking a short lunch break. I sat down to have a snack, and things began happening that I didn't even know were happening.
It was only when I went to stand up, that I noticed my legs didn't want to work. First there was a slow creaking noise, much like that of a rusty door hinge, then there was a sudden crack, which at first, I thought something broke, then came the moan, and finally the big finish... the groan.
I'd like to tell you the getting up was the hard part... but I won't. The getting back down was just as bad. The only difference was that the moan and groan came before the creak and the crack on the way down... and so the rest of the day was a series of them all together.
The man who I was helping said, "I'll sleep like a baby tonight, after doing this all day". He did... I didn't. It seems old Arther Ritis followed me home, and snuck in my bed. With each slow movement, it was like a bad chorus, creak, crack, moan and groan...
The next day was to see the finish of the flooring, and then we would put on the baseboards. I was a little disillusioned... I'd thought things would be much easier. Nope. Old Arther Ritis assured me I was in for a rough day, and I'll be dayumed if he wasn't right.
Yes folks, I'm old beyond my years, and I'm not happy about it,either.
