Organizing is not sparking joy for my back. I went to bed, back stiff, and this morning as I stepped over a dog gate, I felt a pop in my lower bag. Ibuprofen, heating pad and stretching haven’t done much to relieve the pain and discomfort radiating down my left leg. Damn you, sciatica! Needless to say, I won’t be tackling our upstairs bathroom closet today. Dammit. I was making such great progress. Felled by an angry back. Things like expired pickles and peanut butter are cumulatively heavy when tossing them from a fridge and hoisting them into a trash barrel. We had people over last night and it was Georgie’s first time meeting a little kid. He was very intrigued. He loves company & the snacks they bring. Georgie slept hard, worn out by company, but was ready to go at 6:50 AM. We were not ready to go so we tucked him and Wrigley into the living room. I can sleep through anything. It’s a gift. But Andrea had barely made it back into bed when she heard signs of trouble from downstairs. She went to investigate and let out a profanity laden shout at Georgie who had climbed onto the dining room table, his head stuffed deep into a Dorito bag. Good thing he sparks joy most of the time.