But that's not important. What is important is that I am swallowing pain meds and muscle relaxers on a regular basis this weekend.
Sweet.
Among other things, my OCD causes me to worry about taking medication. So much so in fact that when I see a doc who wishes to give me any sort of pill, I talk him out of it. I don't like medicine unless it's totally necessary.
Which it so is right now. And as a result, I'm legally stoned.
Mr. Man is off protecting a giant radioactive dome today, my son is at his Dad's for the weekend and so I'm alone with the dog, my pills and two boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
Life is good.
Yesterday life was good as well. My Mr. Man took care of me all day. He cooked for me, he brought me drinks, he kissed my forehead and he helped me move around the house without falling down. In short, those wedding vows he took really kicked in.
I love marriage. It's a fabulous verbal contract that forces someone to take care of you in sickness.
Did I just say I love marriage? Geez. I am stoned.
I have a million funny things rolling from side to side in my head this morning, but I'm beginning to feel icky, so I'm going to make a muscle relaxer omelet and go back to bed. Feel free to write your own funny stuff in the space below.
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