Was startled awake by the doorbell
[1] this morning, and discovered I had a crick in my neck as I stumbled down the stairs. No idea if it was there before I woke up; usually when this happens I feel the crunch as I stretch or sneeze or something. I've employed the proven technique of hammering it with codeine, on the basis that being unpleasantly stoned for a day or two is better than pain and being unable to move properly for a week.
That's written off this weekend's soggy cold camping trip, then. I missed the last two because chest infections.
To add insult to injury, one of the smoke alarms chose to announce its low battery about an hour later. Being repeatedly startled by bipping isn't conducive to muscle relaxation. So we now know that stoned Kim who can't look upwards is safer at climbing ladders than normal barakta.
[1] Demon-spawn vibrating pad under barakta's pillow which is evil enough to (at least theoretically) stop her sleeping through the fire alarm, accompanied by assorted flashing lights and the dulcet tones of Rod Hull and his crack team of 80s drama students. It brings me from REM sleep to ready to fight off the zombie hordes in less than a second, which is generally suboptimal unless there's actually a fire or someone's got a sufficiently exciting parcel.
