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Written at 9:02 a.m. on Tuesday, May. 06, 2003

Ok, if I dont shake these headaches by friday, I'm making a doctor's appointment. Something just doesnt feel right about this. I have a headache everday

I went to the pharmacy the other day to stock up on pain relievers and sinus medication...just in case its allergies. I have no idea what it is, but its overstayed its welcome.

While I was at the pharmacy the other day, they gave me some paper about their privacy laws and had me sign something. The pharmacist lady also gave me a little bag with samples in it. Just for kicks last night we opened the bag to see what was in there. Contents= a box of Depends pads, a box of OB tampons and a thing of KY jelly.

What in the hell do all three of these have in common? Why would you team these three items together? I mean, I could understand if it were condoms, KY and a pregnancy test. Or Depends pads, Geritol and BenGay. They are relative.

I may have lost all connection to reason and accountability today. Its dreary outside. That usually makes me more tired than your average day...where I'm already tired as it is. Today I just want to have my milk and cookies and take a nap for a couple of hours. And a story as I fall asleep would be nice too.

I have got to start getting bed earlier. I was up last night cleaning and putting clothes away. When I came home yesterday from work, he had already finished putting my dresser together and moved it into my closet. Looks like he overlooked folding my clothes and putting them away for me. I'll let it slip...this time.

What I want him to do more than anything (and I have been riding his ass about it constantly) is throw away those damn beer bottles that are consuming my kitchen. Its all about the principle of it now. A week ago, I would have just thrown them away myself without question. But he kept saying No, I'll get it...dont worry about it. So I kept expecting him to do it, but it never got done.

Now almost two weeks later they are still sitting there and I fear if they sit there any longer I'm going to bust him over the head with one of them.

I hate clutter. I hate dirt. I hate mess. I spent an hour last night cleaning the kitchen. I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the floor. And he comes out and says Something looks different in the kitchen. Yeah, super sleuth...its clean. Ah hem, except for the beer bottles...get rid of them.

I've got ten bucks that says that when I get home tonight, they will still be sitting there. The good girlfriend routine only stretches so far. I'm his girlfriend...not his maid.