When I was in middle school or high school, Mamaw had a problem involving a bottle of prescription medicine that had expired. When Dad suggested that she get it refilled, she informed him disgustedly that the doctor who had prescribed it was dead. And anyway, it had been prescribed for Papaw, who died before I was born.
Today I dug out the muscle relaxants they gave me last year because I have managed to hurt my back again. As with last time, I have no excuse for this. I went to class and played Mario and Luigi: Partners in Time. That’s not even a strenuous Mario game.
Has anyone ever invented a way to read while lying flat that doesn’t tire your arms out? Or do inventing-type people, like everyone else, always forget the inconveniences of a bad back the moment they get over it, and only remember again the next time they pull something?