wooze

So, I felt so sorry for myself that I broke into Paul's precious supply of Vicodin that he keeps for when his pilonidal abcess flares up. My throat hurts less, and I don't even care that it hurts at all! Plus Vicodin makes me SUPER hyper so I've got 4 loads of laundry sorted, one in the dryer, one in the washer, the dishwasher going, the apartment is tidied, the bed is made, the garbage is taken out, my clothes are all hung up *boingboingboing* Next I've gotta sort through Paul's clothes and try to throw out the holey ones without his noticing. Due to a clean laundry shortage, I put on a pair of his boxers for lounging last night and discovered that the crotch has one too many holes. I casually mentioned that I wouldn't bother washing them them then, but would instead chuck them (since he has about, conservatively, 40 pairs). he looked genuinely frightened, stricken even.