Somewhat weird Sunday.

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.