I keep forgetting to move my head when I’m at my work computer thus rendering my neck into one stiff drink best served at Crappy Hour.
No but really, by the time I realize I haven’t moved it, the situation is amped to that horrible degree akin to when you realize your foot has fallen sound asleep but you have to nevertheless get up and move on with your life.
Then I move it a tiny bit, centimeter by centimeter, until I just feel decrepit. So I massage the old chum halfheartedly with my ton-o-carpal fingers.
Official drone status? Checkmate.
This pawn got pwned by her own body!
photo courtesy of Flickr and SqueakyMarmot