2004-03-12 @ 3:28 p.m.
|Here is your horoscope for Friday, March 12:
Expand your range. You need to meet more air and fire signs anyway. Casual contact leads to intense bonding. While romance involves limited numbers, there's room for all in a business or spiritual arrangement.
Romance involves limited numbers? Really? You mean two? Or three. Or one of those groovy love-in things, that involves multiple participants.
And its a shame that I'm supposed to be looking for air and fire signs since Married Guy is an earth sign. And I'm a water sign. And you know what earth and water make? MUD. Yeah, it figures.
So I had Married Guy's hand on my ass today. But only in a professional way. I got a massage this afternoon. And boy, did I need one. My fibromaylgia is at a crisis level right now.
Everything is burning and painful, and with all the walking I have been doing, my legs have been feeling like I just ran the San Francisco Bay to Breakers backwards and uphill without the benefit of gravity.
My quads (muscles on top of thighs) and adductors (muscles inside of thighs), especially on my right leg are hurting so intensely, that last night I had thought of dropping Married Guy an e-mail and telling him, "Cancel my appointment tomorrow, I think amputation is the only solution."
I just could not get comfortable. And I couldn't get enough pain medication. And I couldn't get the right amount of heat on it. And I was just laying on the couch watching "Survivor" with a pillow between my legs, looking like Vampira on a low blood sugar binge. Dark circles. The beginning of a sore throat. Feverish.
I was glad my kitty was there. She finally relinquished her position off the piano after about 18 days. That was one of her longest sieges ever in one position. She is now camped on my couch, and I've been enjoying her company, either scratching her tummy or laying down with her tucked in the crook of my arm.
Married Guy was running really late today on his appointments. And I only got a 1/2 hour despite being scheduled an hour. Was pretty disappointed about that. Especially for all the effort involved getting to and from his office (4 buses).
But what we lacked in time, he definitely made up for in power. He did some really intensive work on my quads and my right inner thigh, which nearly had me yelping at the moon. I'm fairly susceptible to movement in this area, since its so close to the Garden of Eden, but of course, it was also very painful and I was not feeling well, so I just had to writhe in pain, rather than in fun.
Tomorrow, of course, is Married Guy's annual St. Patrick's Day shindig...you know the event where a bunch of Irishmen run around waving their shallaighlies and ingest as much Guinness as humanly possible. Married Guy, incidentally, is about as Irish as you can get without kidnapping somebody off the streets of Dublin).
So he is campaigning really hard for me to come up to the house. He has invited me every year for the last 5-6 years and I have never gone. But now this year, the first year I have actually considered going and I have no transportion. Frook.
Especially with a horoscope that practically guarantees that "some casual contact could lead to some intense bonding...
But with the sore throat. And Sore adductors. And sore everything, well, maybe being around obnoxious drunk Irishmen for several hours, would just be the straw that broke the camel's back.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty