Cranky

For the last ten days or so, every evening I run a fever. I have strict instructions to call the doctor the moment my temperature reaches 100.5 degrees F. I never do, I hover around 100 degrees F., take two ibuprofen, and the next morning my temperature has dropped (although rarely anymore does it drop to the vicinity of 96.4 degrees which is where I have discovered I normally run.) I'm going to ask about this next time I go see the doctor because about the time I think I need a couple of ibuprofen and take my temperature, I start having chills. And I feel bad. Just about the time I feel bad, Bob gets home.

This is genuinely not fair to him. The last thing he needs after a day of work is a wife who is unhappy.

In a way, having a bit of a chill is a nice change because I don't seem to be having hot flashes as much anymore. And you know, I don't think I'd notice any of this nearly as much if I wasn't sitting around thinking about how I feel all the time.

I'm thinking I'm going to have to get out and walk for ten or fifteen minutes every day even if it's snowing, but I suspect I won't do that. I don't feel up to any sort of genuine exercise routine because my arms hurt. But I guess I could put on Nina Simone and march in place a bit. It would entertain the dogs.

There's a place that just opened in town that does tai chi, yoga, and a couple of other things. It looks a little New Age, except that it's in a storefront. So think New Age on the cheap. But I'd love to try yoga. Kate, a friend of mine, and I are going to check it out.