Pissy

One other thing about taking Percocet. It makes me grumpy the next day. EVERYTHING pisses me off. I can't grit my teeth because my left jaw is still a little sore. I can't scream and yell because, well, damn, maybe I can. But after awhile, it loses its shock value and no one is afraid of me anymore.

The house is a goddamn mess. It looks like about 14 pigs live in it. We're a family of pack rats. Now I have to say that my kids have been escorting me around town the last few days since I hurt my back, but they really haven't been doing much around the house. Granted, I haven't pointed to a specific thing and said, "Will you do this?" but you'd think after living with me for most of their lives, they'd know to do a few things without being prompted.

The other side of that is, when I prompt them, I get heavy sighs, dirty looks and attitude. Well, in the words of Stephen King, I'm about half past give a shit. I am going to get some help today or I won't be doing anything for anyone else for about a month. We're going to get some stuff done. I figure if I overwork my back and have to spend a week on the floor, they'll learn what it is to get along without me.