I was feeling good today and decided to start contributing to the household by doing the dishes. That meant unloading and reloading the dishwasher. No problemo, right? Who knew putting away dishes could be such a workout? Lean over, grab something, stand up and reach to put it away on a shelf above my head. Repeat.
I managed to get it all done and wipe the counters while my lovely spouse was off shopping and fetching the spawn, but it wore me out. I had to lie down for a rest. I didn't take one of my two remaining oxycodones because I'm saving them for nighty-night time (one per night). Wendy was picking up my new perscription for vicodin, which is what the Doctor *would* give me, as opposed to what I really wanted which was more oxycodone. Mean doctor, mean nurse. Can't they see I'm not an addictive person? I wouldn't *abuse* the oxy, realllly.
Oh, well, I tried. I took two of the vicodin as soon as Wendy got home, because I was really feeling the effects of my kitchen workout in the form of a burning sensation down near my belly button. That really took the edge off, almost as good as oxy.
Posted by buggy at April 18, 2005 09:17 PM | TrackBack