I keep trying to remind myself on days like this that I'm only 53. After 6 days in a row of doing what is called "throwing load" (otherwise known as breaking down pallets on which the product we need to sell comes in), my body is trying to insist I'm 153.
I've bruised like a peach for as long as I can remember, so I'm not at all surprised at the bruises that grace my forearms from the boxes that slipped as I was trying to hoist them onto the conveyances to bring them out onto the selling floor. What bothers me is the aches in parts that I thought I'd been building up over the past year.
Ten extra hours ages my muscles by 100 years?
Heaven help me if I ever get another full time job that needs me to be hoisting things around. I'm sure to feel 300 before retirement at this rate.
I've bruised like a peach for as long as I can remember, so I'm not at all surprised at the bruises that grace my forearms from the boxes that slipped as I was trying to hoist them onto the conveyances to bring them out onto the selling floor. What bothers me is the aches in parts that I thought I'd been building up over the past year.
Ten extra hours ages my muscles by 100 years?
Heaven help me if I ever get another full time job that needs me to be hoisting things around. I'm sure to feel 300 before retirement at this rate.
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