sickI spent the majority of the weekend attempting sleep. During this time, Himself made sure we did our monthly Sam's Club run (and let me push the cart, but I haven't seen anything on the news about flattened people so I must've done all right despite being dopey), helped me select the correct graph paper (10 squares/inch) at Staples for charting cross-stitch, and ran several loads of laundry.
I have 5 phenergan tablets left. As much as I hate to do so, this week I'm going to get an appointment even if I have to say I'm bleeding from the ears. I keep getting put off because I'm honest and say I can deal with my sinus pain but would like to see a doctor about more phenergan. This time I'm going to say I'm out and if they can't give me an appointment within the month, I'm going to walk over and wait until someone sees me. (Last time they made me do this I puked on the floor, so hopefully this time I won't have to go in three times and all but prostrate myself on the floor to get a new scrip for something I've been on for 6 years anyway.)
Incidentally, we all have colds now. If we didn't have Zicam I'm sure it'd be less tolerable.
Flame, e-mail me about this upcoming weekend. I should brief you on what I actually have in my kitchen. (Good news: I found the flannel sheets for the futon, so now all I need to locate is a comforter. Heh.)
