I'm sore as hell.
CORRECTION:
Yesterday I said the the climb to the top of our building was eighteen feet, but today, I carried a measuring tape up with me, because I was suspicious that the guy who told me, whatever has a smaller dick than he claims, what ever, whatever ...
It is twenty four feet straight up, ninety degrees to the pull of gravity, to the top of our building. Today I counted carefully. I went up that fucking ladder nineteen times (yes, it's an odd number - I had to get off the clock to stay out of overtime and I left someone else in charge of security when I left with the worker atop the building and the upper door open. I am not worried, because I left it in the charge of one of the other asd/obsessive peolpe who works there. There are three of us that are easily Dx'able with a layman's set of skills in this area.)
So, I am sore as hell. My hands are fine, my recently broken bone is a little pissed off at me, my hip is stronger than it has been in a few months (I may have to include climbing that fucking ladder as an exercise), my back is good, my legs are good.
It ismy feet that are complaining. Part of it is simple over-exertion, but part of it is wearing moccasins does little to protect my hard working feet from my excessive weight when asked to suspend that weight upon a one inch re-bar step, many times over.
My feet are complaining.
(BTW, one of the other guys gave away my age to the guy who started that stupid conversation about age. he now will not meet my eyes -I have control of eye contact, generally, but he won't even try. WTF - I should NOT have tried to lie to the guy and talk about grey hair being common in my family. I should have punked him, immediately, by showing I was six years older from the beginning.)
I fucking lied to a complete stranger, in a way.
I should have made him feel inadequate from the beginning, instead of putting it off.