*whimper*

Owie.

It was a nice day today, it hasn't rained in a while (well, not *too* recently), and my weekend wasn't as crazy busy as they have been... so I decided to go out and prepare the garden for winter. (Dig the lawn & weeds that were reestablishing themselves in the bed, pull the annuals, and trim the perennials.)

The soil was *still* mud. The first stuff I dug wasn't too bad, but, as I worked my way back towards the lawn, I had to dig the stuff I had been standing on... pure airless clay. A consistency that would probably be nice for working on a wheel. I did get a bunch done, but not nearly as much as I had planned, and not nearly as much as I would have been able to had I been able to dig the peat moss in at some point this summer. *sigh*

I didn't feel the strain while working. I didn't feel the strain while showering. I didn't feel the strain when I took my laundry downstairs. However, when I bent over to sort the laundry, I suddenly felt it in my chest. Somehow, I seem to have strained my upper breastbone, and *boy*, is it *painful*. I can feel it in the rest of my chest too. (Why my chest?)

Apparently, this is what I get for not gardening all summer, and then try to dig gumbo for several hours.

I think I'll be leaving the dishes I had intended to tackle tonight until tomorrow. (Thankfully I did get some done Thursday night, so the pile isn't as scary as it could be.)