More Perfect

wherein i attempt to do all the things that women are supposed to do and generally make myself miserable in the process

Friday, October 28, 2005

How Do You Think I Feel?

Last night when Steven came home he eyed me sitting on the couch, propped up by about a million pillows, and asked how I was feeling.

"Trapped," I said.

I'm guessing this is the first time I've ever described my state as trapped and meant it physically and not emotionally or spiritually.

"I honestly don't know if I can get myself off the couch."

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