Sunday
Paul went to SS and church this morning and I read my SS lesson in the book we have this quarter. Then I got frustrated and my foot really hurt and I counted my pills and by taking only two a day they will last till next Monday. Then what? But as it turns out, tears release a lot of frustration and I have only had to take one half pill today, so that's good, and things are better. It doesn't take much to make me happy.
This afternoon Paul turned the living room area rug around because it crawls and is wrinkling. In the process the door of the table we use for a coffee table (which is cluttered with all my stuff - brush, hand wash, thank you cards, bowl of M&Ms, etc.) swung open and hit - you guessed it - my left foot. "To the moon, Alice!" That's where I felt like I was going. More tears and apologies - but it was just one of those things no one could help, and again I felt much better after shedding tears. I found that it can take a fairly good lick and not fall off. Paul felt really bad, but it wasn't his fault. I should have had my foot up on the couch.
The box fan in the hall has been running on "3" probably because it sounds so comforting. There's nothing quite like a fan whirring to calm one down. Sounds of the baseball game (Phillies and SF Dodgers) is on TV - cracks of the bats, cheers or ooohs of the crowd, announcers' voices. The NASCAR race was rained out today, so the racing engines' sounds were absent today.
No pictures from Sher today; I guess she's decided on her bed coverings. Haven't heard from Amy. I called Mama Nick yesterday. All is quiet.
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