Graham Norton.
I have him on now. I record his show, just because he makes me laugh. He's one of my happy thoughts, always. He's a British talk show host. Oh, I know. He's done a lot more, but that's what I record. He's completely unrestrained, and does things that wouldn't be allowed on US shows. He and his guests are bleeped all the time by US censors. Silly US prudes. Right now his guests are Sharon & Ozzy Osborne and Ricky Gervais. I'm watching it and listening to the conversation, but I could just listen to them laughing and it would cheer me up, especially Ricky.
So I had to clean out the litter box. Yes, one of the joys of cat ownership. I love my cats. (I really do. *L* NOT finding something good to say about myself!) Cleaning out the litter box.......before the new body that I got for Little Christmas, I did it, didn't LOVE it but didn't really think twice about it. Now it's an adventure. First, getting the litter home from the store. It's cheaper in the bigger containers and since I'm paying over $200 a month in Rx costs money is on my mind a lot (trying not to bring it into my mind a lot......going to focus on manifesting it somehow!) so I do the brand/cost comparison at the store, and look for coupons. Hoist it into the cart, then if I'm lucky I'm at a store where they can scan it in the cart and I don't have to haul it up onto the counter for the checker-clerk. Haul it out of the cart into the trunk, drive home then out of the trunk and totter with it into the house. Each of these times I'm internally praying "don't get dizzy don't get dizzy don't get dizzy" because picking up heavy things from low spots will usually, 9 times out of 10, trigger a great dizzy episode. The litter boxes are downstairs (and they're staying there!) so the container can stay downstairs. Score! But today when I went to the store I had two bags to carry in (each rather heavy) as well as my purse and my dinner. So I left the litter in the car. Tonight at about 9PM I realized...I need to clean out the boxes.
The meds I'm taking that were working a little bit for the fibro pain, Savella, isn't working any more. When my doctor prescribed it she said that for some people it may only work for a short while, then it would stop. I was hoping that wouldn't happen. The relief it gave wasn't huge but it did give some relieve....I wasn't aware of how much until it stopped working completely. I'm back to everything aching, "happy face scale - mid-range" all the time. (Side note, I love Ozzy. He has no filter at all. *L*) My doc hasn't prescribed anything to replace it. I've mentioned that she's stopped doing her job? I have a call out on find a new doctor.....
Today the "happy face scale" has moved up and is higher, don't know why and probably never really will. The migraine level isn't so bad though, I've only had to take one migraine pill and an ibuprofen. And drink lots of water, of course! (also took a forbidden nap...heheheh) I've got the Tin Man walk going today. So walking downstairs, hauling the 27 pound cat litter out of the trunk and bringing it in and cleaning out two litter boxes didn't sound appealing. When I got there, the sweet adorable teeny kittens had been quite active and kicked litter all over the floor so I had to sweep too. By the time I got to the trash can, I was crying. I rarely cry because things hurt. I think it was partly because it hurt and partly frustration. Days and times like that I do feel quite wimpy. There's no other adequate word.
What saved the moment? It's a beautiful night. It's clear out, and there are a gazillion stars, with a few wispy clouds. I leaned back on the car and relaxed and found the 7 Sisters and listened to a little boy laughing as he ran down the street, taking a walk with his dad. After a few minutes the dizziness went away and I got my breath back. The sound of the little boy laughing faded away and it got still.
I went back inside and upstairs, and sat down on the couch. Gromit is next to me, a giant white furball and Wallace is looking at me from across the room, her eyelids drooping as she starts to snooze. They are worth it. They're middle-aged; they're 12 now. I hope they last quite awhile longer. Will I get other cats when they go? I really don't know and I'm not going to think about it now. When I wake up tomorrow I'll be sandwiched in between them, struggling to get out to use the bathroom. Oh, and Wallace is still carrying her Snoopy carcass around like her baby, so cute!
I didn't provide a song to listen to, but since Ricky Gervais makes me laugh I'm adding this. It's a lullaby, the softer side of Ricky.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jc20vMz0V7Q
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