Uh-oh. The tears and crying I predicted in one of my last few entries are here. It just hit me a few minutes ago. Instead of letting it get a good grip on me, I got on the computer and came here to make another entry. That might stave it off or eliminate it altogether.
Don't even read this unless you want to hear a bunch of whining. I just want to write it all down and maybe it will help.
I just don't feel good, and I feel like I should be having less pain and more energy. My throat still hurts (not as bad as right after surgery) and I feel like I have a wad of gum or something stuck in there near my Adam's Apple, my neck and shoulders hurt like a big bee-otch, my lower back is aching, and my ears are stuffed up to the point where everything sounds like it's coming out of a tin can. In a nutshell, I feel like I'm 97 years old.
Y'all don't need to write me or call me and tell me it's okay and it's only been a little over a week, etc, etc. I know that. I guess my brain is just wired to feel sad and focus on all the bad stuff when I don't feel well. WAH.
Barnaby just knocked on the front door. He bought me a new computer because mine has been acting up lately, and I can't wait until it explodes on me when I'm trying to get work done to replace it. He was disappointed about there not being any cookies. I guess he was looking forward to them. Maybe I can make a half-batch before he gets home and surprise him. The main reason I don't want to make them is because it will make a mess in my kitchen and I don't want to face cleaning it up.
The dogs have really been angels today with me being here by myself. And L.B. ate every bit of his chicken baby food, so I think he's feeling better. All of them took a two-hour nap with me earlier and didn't act like starving fools when it was time for their afternoon feeding. I should make them some homemade dog biscuits when I make the cookies. I've never done that before, but I know there are recipes out there for them.
I just realized that I have a headache along with everything else. Gah. I can't type anymore.
End of self-centered whine-fest. I'm going to go try and focus on something besides myself. Now there's a novel idea.