  Since using Irish Spring, after every shower, I feel like I've been bathed in interestingly smelling fiberglass. I think it's time to shell out the coin for some pears. The soap, not the fruit. It's finally a sunny day, and i feel better. Not exactly sure if the sun has something to do with it, or merely the fact that me and the gang got semi-trashed last night and watched hockey. Nothing embarassing happened, and i have to say that it was the first time ever that my body stopped hurting. The whole thing - even my back relaxed. I should be drunk all the time. There might be certain practical problems, but hey, i'd be comfortable. Weird thing though, with the consumption of alcohol - I almost always feel guilty after. No harm done, no grim and dire consequences; but nonetheless i feel as if i did something wrong, sort of. Only sort of. It's like I did something stupid, and don't remember it. It doesn't happen if i have a beer or three, just in the cases where i achieve drunkenness.
I suppose it is an excellent thing that drunkeness happens but once a year, thereabouts. Nothing really has been happening since last i wrote. I've been in bed quite a bit. Bed, unfortunately, doesn't mean sleeping. I think I'm going to try and catch up with my GP in a clinic to get more meds for fibromyaglia. I was wrong when i thought the drugs weren't doing anything. They don't do much, but it is better than my current scenario.
Kurt is now gainfully employed as a handyman. Right now he's working off our rent and doing so beautifully, and as of monday, he works for real money. The downside is that he'll be a commuter, racing down the highway of doom twice a day. Another drawback is long hours, but he's happy as a clam doing what he's doing. Now if work would pick up, we'd be a-ok. For the time being though, i guess we'll settle for ok. 
