I've started having more and more pain. It was so bad this past weekend at times, I could barely walk. Brian finally had me call in on Monday for more Vicodin. Actually, he called, really, because I lost my voice. I caught a cold from my kids, and my voice went on Saturday. Then on Sunday I started getting chest congestion and needing to cough a lot. I have to wonder how much of this more recent pain is from the coughing, if my coughing might be tearing something in there? Probably just me being paranoid. All these lovely, pleasant thoughts I have. I don't know what's worse, being in pain or being stoned on Vicodin. They both suck. I need to be getting back to work, doing more than just cooking and laundry around here. But I can't even go pick berries in the yard without causing pain.

I picked up some more clothes over the weekend. I got a hip-hugging slinky black skirt, very cool, and five new shirts, three black and two purple. I honestly did not have a single short-sleeved shirt left that wasn't too big, too holey, or a t-shirt. So now I can wear black again. Much better. Fits my mood.