I Have This Crick In My Neck…

Anyway, moral lesson? Beware neck-wrangling elves. They are everywhere. And Santa should retire.

I have this crick in my neck.

How did I get it? I don’t know. You never know how you get them. You just notice them and then speculate on how you acquired them. They’re like a hangover but in your neck – You don’t remember exactly when you got drunk, but you have a timeframe, and you were probably unconscious at some point.

Then you wake up the next day feeling like shit.

It’s subtle too. It’s not banging-between-the-eyes pain; you can almost forget it’s there…

Then you move your head, and you see the flames of hell in your periphery.

I was inaccurate earlier; it’s less a crick and more a fire in the belly but in my head pillar. It feels like when you go to the gym when you haven’t stepped in one in 6 months, then proceed to go as hard as the bodybuilder next to you- how your muscles protest the next day…

That’s how my neck feels, but I didn’t lift any weights with my neck. I feel like someone who got obese without actually eating anything. I feel cheated. All pain, no gain.

Now, the number one culprit in situations like this is sleeping posture. I’ve been sleeping all my life; I don’t think I’d do the same thing all my life, and then today… Get it wrong. So I blame elves.

I feel like I’m losing you here, so hear me out. Who really knows what those creatures do while creeping around in the night?

Here’s the theory: they came up at night, decided to mess with me, shifted my body into inconvenient positions, and let me sit. There was probably a paralytic drug involved. You can’t say otherwise. You can’t prove it.

Meanwhile, I have my long years of sleeping experience (and, dare I say – mastery) on my side. This is an endeavor I am well-versed in. I have worked hard at racking up these hours. So many naps suffered through… I would not make a rookie mistake like that and end up with neck pain.

There was this story about a cobbler who would go to bed and wake up to shoes he was working on already made. He would find materials he’d laid out the night before as well-made shoes when he woke up the next morning. It turned out it was the elves. Maybe I just got the evil ones.

But then again, it could be Santa.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping… He knows when you’re awake…” I swear I’ve been good, not bad, but Santa is probably senile. He’s really old.

Anyway, moral lesson? Beware neck-wrangling elves. They are everywhere. And Santa should retire.