Oh dear. I really should think what I promise to do. I’m getting buried in bags. So far I have about 200 of them. All my evenings have been spent on checking them. When I get home, I quickly eat supper, throw some laundry in the washer and start going through them. Needless to say the place looks trashed. Clothes here, clothes there, last weeks mail everywhere. Flylady would not be proud of me now. I’m going to spend the weekend with these bags. Meanwhile the two males in the household are being busy spreading everything around the house. Neither of them has yet learned to pick up after themselves.
After I get through this I’ll need a stiff drink. Who cares if I’m already stimming. Or I might not be stimming, still depending on AF. With all this stress I’m sure she’ll not come by Monday anyway! Which then means an another week on Synarela. And I’m getting the headaches already. I’ve had one hot flash, too. So I am getting suppressed. And the taste is not getting any better. It’s also giving me heartburn, woke up last night because it was so bad.