I woke up this morning around 5 AM completely soaked in sweat and freezing. Literally shaking with coldness that went all the way to the bone. I (sad to say) woke my husband up so he could lend me some body heat. I didn't know what else to do. Then I drifted in and out of sleep, constantly shivering, for another hour or two and finally asked Tony if he could please, pretty please, get me the damn pill. Actually, I didn't say damn, but that's what I was thinking, along with some other choice words. By 8:30ish, the shivering finally wore off.
In case you're wondering, the temperature in the bedroom: 77 degrees. And me under a sheet and coverlet. Which I now have to wash, since they are drenched in sweat. My poor husband.
Have I mentioned that I detest these pills?
Anywho. I'm going to try and get past my blah-ness today. Maybe sit out in the backyard with some lemonade and let fat Gracie wander around and eat grass while I write. She's been begging to go outside constantly. Strange for a cat that used to take an hour to even approach the front door, but it's the lure of fresh grass to chomp on that does it.
I am determined to think positive. No more wallowing. It doesn't do any good, and besides, I'm fresh out of ice cream. You have to have ice cream to properly wallow.