Another mini-heatwave here on Sunday; must have been at least 80 degrees. Nice. (Remind me again why I'm trying to put a plan in place to move back to New Jersey within a year?)
Also, despite having had to do laundry, I was in a much better mood compared to my crankypants-fest on Saturday. Not sure exactly what that was about, but I spent a good part of the day in bed. With a pillow over my face.
Whatever. I'm blaming it on my adjustment to my new best friend, duloxetine, otherwise known by a name that sounds better suited to an orchestra's percussion section: Cymbalta.
Yes, I'm medicated. Believe me, everyone likes me better that way. Especially me. I think.
7 comments:
You looking for an argument?
Drug manufacturers really are running out of fanciful new names for their drugs.
Pillows over your face you say?
Coppie, it's not the same thing as you shoving his head into a pillow...
Uh. No comment. ;-)
The thought hadn't occurred to me, though it has now.
I can't imagine why, Carl, but this thread, along with your sex-centric post today, made me think of this entertaining little proverb:
Om dagen är livet underbart
Om natten är underlivet bart!
You're one of the few people I "know" who could appreciate that.
Ah yes, now that made me smile. :-)
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