It's here somewhere. It must be.
I wish I could be like Crazy Aunt Purl, and be funny in he midst of this pain. As she went through a divorce, we laughed and cried with her. I, on the other hand, can hardly move. I'm up and I'm dressed (in workout clothes, because they're comfortable -not because I have any energy for working out) and that's it.
Oh, and I've made an appointment with a therapist and with an attorney. It's 10:00 in the morning. Where is the old "kicking butt and taking names" Andrea? Has anyone seen her?