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."
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...