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.
No comments:
Post a Comment