It seems the pain of the temperate climate has caught up with me once again. This would be the horrid pain that specialists have told me is all in my head, cause I'm an addict, I'm not to be trusted, and of course I've got to be making the whole thing up because there doesn't seem to be an explanation for why the whole of my body aches so badly it's hard to move.

Tonight for example, let's throw this out there so that internet strangers can all make fun of my delusions. Tonight I didn't get up and swap seats with the Boy when I picked him up from work. I couldn't let him drive home because I was not sure that if I got up I could fold myself back into the car. We get home, I manage the initial bedtime routine. I end up with a mega dose of motrin and damn near pass out after taking a Very Hot shower. Heat sometimes helps. Then I sat down to watch CSI with my husband; only made it part of the way into the episode before I fell asleep on him.

It's 10 at night, I can't sleep anymore because the initial exhaustion has worn off and I'm still in agony. I don't want to lay in bed tossing and whimpering. So what am I doing? Housework, in small enough movements and motions that I look like some sort of fricking robot with a rusty gear. But hey, at least I may go to sleep tonight with a clean kitchen. Less work to look at tomorrow, when I'm probably going to wake up with the same problem again.