It is to the point, on this beautiful Friday afternoon, that I can't bear to walk outside and enjoy the day because the pain behind my knees--no doubt caused by the conception, if not yet the birth, of several brand new varicose veins--has me confined to the couch. It is THAT BAD. Is this normal? I have no memory of it being like this when I was a waitress. Could it be the fumes from the grease? My apron tied too tight? The effort of decoding accents? Or is it that I was simply not made for this kind of thing (meaning actual WORK, of course) and that I should be in a classroom somewhere instead, legs crossed delicately beneath my desk? I would give anything to go back to school. And stay there. Forever.
Besides my physical agony, everything else is well. We have Internet! And cable! And constant arguments involving peeling David from the couch! Ah, bliss.