A few days ago G and I left for one hour and 20 minutes to go to CVS and Target, when we got home The Curmudgeon was on the floor yelling that he’d been there for hours. He was not.

For the next several days I was constantly running up and down the stairs to help him go from bathroom to bedroom and/or get him up from the floor in the bedroom and back in bed.

So far he has managed to make me pull every muscle in my back, chest, shoulders and neck.

He has still not bothered to help me fill out HIS forms for aid. I cannot do it without his help since some of the information only he has.

It’s making me crazy.

I no longer have a group of friends. I have one.

I am both a gregarious person and a homebody…if that makes sense.

I have no social life. He refuses to go anywhere. We no longer go out or have any friends to go out with.

I NEED! CRAVE! WANT! a face to face social interaction with people who have actually read a book, like a glass of wine or a good vodka martini, and enjoy a lovely meal out.

I can’t think. I can’t write. I can’t sleep for more than a couple hours at a time.

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