Thursday, May 4, 2006

So THAT's why they call it a catapult...

Harry read my blog and called me to say "It's okay - we don't have to have a romantic dinner and - that other stuff  - since you're in pain." 

How sweet.

Aint gonna happen.

I want my date night - if nothing else but because I am still frightened by my "substitute hubby."

I went to the doctor today and was basically told that they had no f'n clue what was wrong with me.


So I came home, took a Loratab and passed out.  I woke up three hours later when Phoebe used my back as a catapult to get to the other side of the bed - twice.

It hurts when I laugh.  And that sucks beyond belief.  I'm a laugher, a giggler, a sniggler a snickerer and a chuckler. Take this away from me and all you have is someone who wears a bit too much eyeliner and smiles a smile that's a little too crooked for conventional standards. 

I'm gonna laugh, anyway.  :)

My cat just licked my knee.

Okay - I'm gonna go to bed now- and hope that no felines will use me as a diving board in the middle of the night...

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