We’ve got some weird weather in New Hampshire, a freeze warning for tonight.
Nothing really surprises me anymore.
I’m very down today on the scale, more than I’ve been in some time. My jeans might have some give to them.
Aidan had brought in ice cream for everyone, so I sneakily ate the last drumstick, and it made me so sick. I mean I was in such excruciating pain I almost dropped what I was doing and just went home.
I don’t know if it was because I was sick, but I was also fighting off sleep all the way home, and didn’t even realize it. If I had known I think I would’ve just pulled over somewhere, but I wasn’t thinking straight.
I’m still a little sick from it.
Usually it takes a lot more ice cream than that to cause that kind of a reaction.
The living room and kitchen need my attention, but I’m lacking in energy and, errr… want-to. I’d much rather do something else.
It’s looking like Cortisone shots to me. I’m limping around and what exercise I’m doing seems entirely ineffective.
This really is just a public diary. I guess. I’ve never suggested it was anything else.