I prefer sweet paprika anyway. So there.

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon painting two walls, including behind and around girders, contributing more elbow grease than I have in months, and other than a little fatigue I felt perfectly fine.  Heck, I felt better after painting two walls than before. Yet barely an hour later, in a spice store with Tori, I took a cautious sniff into (more like over) a jar of hot Spanish paprika. The result was a violent sneeze that pulled a muscle in my left shoulder and very nearly caused me to throw out my back.  

Just before I began typing, I popped a few Advil, and will probably need to do so over the entire weekend. (Thankfully, typing doesn't hurt.  Yet.)  Not because I pulled a muscle busting my butt painting, but because of a sneeze. 

Needless to say, I did not purchase the paprika.  I'll stick to the Hungarian paprika, thank you.  The Spanish can kiss my ass.  Or at least help me smear some Ben Gay on my shoulder.

Comments

[wife]

Now people will think you put sneezed-on paprika back on the shelf.

[Reverend H.L. Spork]

Maybe I did.

"Excuse me sir, why does this paprika looks a little viscous?"

[Myke]

Not to spoil the story, but just because you weren't feeling the pain from painting yet doesn't mean it wasn't there. Your muscles were probably fatigued and tight.
Feeling better after painting, that's called endorphins son. It's a slippery slope, one day you're painting walls, then next you're running ultra-marathons.