The problem is that I am sore beyond belief today. I don't remember being so sore when I put in the laminate for our attic bedroom at our house in Iowa. My knees and the heels of my hands are very tender and I'm keeping ibuprofen in my system at regular intervals. Worse, when I posted about my condition on my Facebook status this morning, one of my oldest friends had the temerity to suggest that I was experiencing the vagaries of something she referred to as "middle age." I am not amused. Personally, I've decided that gray hair or not, I'm not middle-aged until I'm 50 at least, and maybe not even then.
If that doesn't work, then I've got a fall-back theory: As all of you know, I recently got my hair cut off, and based on my study of the Scriptures, I'm pretty sure that has something to do with it. After all, read this:
...she called a man to shave off the seven braids of his hair, and so began to subdue him. And his strength left him. - Judges 16:19bSee? Middle-aged? Meh. I just got a haircut, and haircuts produce weakness. Once my hair grows back out, I'll be back to knocking over pagan temples again. Or at least, that's the theory I'm going with.