I am laid up with a sore back. And by laid up I mean doing all my regular stuff - working, cooking, cleaning, loafing - but with more moaning and whining. I helped my aunt move last weekend from her apartment to a co-op (income-based rent) so she can finally retire. The stairs from her patio to the sidewalk were very wonky so I ended up carrying boxes and furniture in a very un-ergonomic manner, resulting in a bum back. I'm sure it's broken, but my chiropractor says otherwise.
Let me tell you how navigationally-challenged I am. I loaded the first load of furniture into our little Chevy S-10 pickup and AJ gave me directions to her new place: "Turn right on 4th, go to Cedar and turn right on 3rd. Park in the upper parking lot above the complex." She went to pick up my cousin to help us. Off I went with my precarious cargo, down the hill until I got to Alder. My problem came when I got to Cedar. Straight across the street was a dead-end parking lot above a townhouse complex. I got excited and drove into it, backed 'er up to the curb and started unloading beside the path which was just where she said it would be. Not knowing which unit was hers, I waited in the truck for her to arrive. Sure enough, her little silver car comes down 4th and...wait, where is she going? Why is she turning? Oh shit. She lives on 3rd.
Now she doesn't own a cell phone and I can't leave her stuff on the sidewalk so I play a quick game of truck-box Tetris to get all her furniture back in. Meanwhile, she is driving around the 'hood looking for me, but gives up and drives back to her place to phone my cell. I go one block south where my cousin is waving his arms at me at the mouth of a parking lot above her townhouse just as my cell phone rings. We had a good laugh over it anyway.