Ugh. I’ve never gone through a weekend and described it as “long,” but I guess this is a start. The odd thing is, I don’t want the weekend to be over yet.

Highlight of the weekend: seeing The Dark Knight with Mom. I need to go see it again. My life depends on it. Your life depends on it. I’m thinking IMAX would be good.

Low point of the weekend: having a breakdown. Hooray for being a depressive. All of the details are on my latest post on Scars Can Speak, as I don’t feel like getting into it all over again.

In an hour I have my appointment with Dr. Lichter, my specialist in physical medicine and rehabilitation–or so says Google. (What? I couldn’t remember what he was, hahaha.) I have to remember to tell him about my left wrist hurting for three days straight, and my right wrist/hand hurting like hell last night. [Confused? So am I. I'll write about this soon, I promise. ]

You know what’s really sucky? The fact that I can’t read half of everyone’s Lj’s anymore because of the friends only thing, and I refuse to log into that place. GAH.