I'm supposed to be driving down to The Photography Show at the NEC in Birmingham right now. Instead I'm in bed, swallowing down ibuprofen and I have a heated wheat sack pressed against my back, who knew picking up socks off the floor could be so dangerous and the results so painful. Yesterday I was doing a lot of heavy lifting, and cutting wood up to build some shelves for our youngest to store some of his junk in his wardrobe, I have a feeling that my back popping is payback for all that effort, but who knows.
I was supposed to be meeting up with a great group of guys from a google+ group, I've been looking forward to this since I missed last year's get together at the show, I feel awful that I'm not going to make it yet again. My mood is foul, at least that's what the wife has told me, I'm sure she is right. So now I'm going to wallow in some self pity, and trawl the Internet for information from the show.
