I've really messed myself up this time... plus I listen to horrible music

It's been raining.
I have a lot to do.
My helper has been frustrating me.
My arm hurts.
I've already been to the Chiropractor early in the week. That did help but I still don't have the strength to really pull a wrench with my right hand.
My wife told me I was taking her appointment for a massage or else... I did not inquire as to what she meant by "or else," perhaps she mean she would give me cookies. I suppose it could have been a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, most likely it would mean she would be grumpy.
I don't like her to be grumpy. When she is grumpy she notices my stacks of records, reel to reel tapes, 16 mm moves, toy tractors, Marx tin barns, old stereo equipment in various stages of "restoration," Marx Johnny West Cowboys, Nerf arsenal, endless supply of old books, and various old Mac notebooks, eMates, GPS antennas, 45 rpm singles, guns, Erector Sets, toy trains, 30 year-old t-shirts, tinker toys, mini RC helicopters, every toy I owned as a child, and our continual lack of money.
I try to keep her happy...
But, I digress...
I figured the one thing in my life I could change is my arm hurting. My main plan for coping with life and pain is repression. I have been told this is not a good idea.
Anyway, I took her appointment even though I have heard so many jokes about "happy finishes," that it is almost impossible for me to say "I am here for a massage," without feeling like Benny Hill.
My wife's massage therapist is amazing.
I was there for two hours. She only charged me for one. I got the feeling she had never met someone with as tightly knotted muscles as myself. She only worked on my arm and shoulders, I do feel better. She told me I was to take it easy for 24 hours and ice my muscles.
I'm not really supposed to type. Perhaps I'll post pictures instead.
I'm listening to the Rod Stewart Album that looks like a whiskey glass. It is not as good as the cover promises.
I was attempting to listen to more of the four boxes of 1960's country music that I was given. Good grief this stuff is painful to listen to. Now I understand people like Billy Joe Shaver and Johnny Cash.
I think I'm just going to haul it all to Goodwill.
I don't really need six Englebert Humperdink and five Marty Robbins albums when I can't even make it though one of them. And those are the cream of the crop. I'm going to give Eddy Arnold another try but I'm not optimistic.
I wish I had more Ventures albums. They have pretty girls on the cover and THEY DON'T SING!