Slept in nicely, forgot to take my diuretic when I woke up. Re-read the Sunday School lesson from two weeks ago, because I didn't remember reading it, and then today's lesson. Finished the toe on the Frankensock, played a little with my spreadsheets, and realized with embarrassment as I meandered back to my room that I should be at the church in oh, five minutes, and I was distinctly unwashed. So I texted one of my friends, asking her to lead the opening song and maybe the sacrament hymn, and I got busy cleaning myself up.
Sadly, I walked into the meetinghouse just as they were finishing up with passing the sacrament, so I didn't get to partake. And as I walked into the meetinghouse, my left ankle reminded me that I hadn't taken my diuretic, because I could feel stiffness coursing up my shins.
I went home after sacrament meeting, took my medicine, finished the mug of milk that I'd left on my desk, and half a bottle of water on my bedside table, and the two full bottles that I promised Middlest I would drink before lying down.
Drinking that much liquid guaranteed that I would not sleep for five or six hours and wreck my sleep tonight.
Since then I have read a week's worth of days in my chronological Bible, eaten and snacked and eaten again. Sundays throw my eating schedule all out of whack, but I think I've sufficiently remedied that.
Middlest is home from a visit to our friend's house and informs me that, in case anyone asks me tomorrow who won the Superbowl, the Patriots came from behind and won. I hope that's not a spoiler for anyone who actually likes sports.
I took my last dose of muscle relaxer last night. Tomorrow may be interesting. I will definitely be calling the pharmacy to see if I have a refill. If I don't, I may call my doctor to see if she will prescribe Robaxin instead. My VT, who is a physician's assistant, says that it's stronger and does not interact with my anti-anxiety medicine.
Time for me to take (most of) my evening meds and call it a day.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!