Ok, so we get all moved in. Russell gets here after 2 weeks of no Bear.

I get the kids set up, I start my job.

Then I take a ginormous digger in the shower while trying to put soap away. I tripped on the lip of the shower and fell full force on my "good" knee. The other knee got banged a little and bruised, but I actually bruised the bone on my "good" knee. I also caught the door across my abdomen, so I'm bruised there, too.

I've been icing it and living on vicodan at night. At first, the doctor told me no driving because it's my right knee, but I can do stuff, so I'm just going to take some vicodan and drive home this weekend. I told Mike I wanted to stop at the midway point and spend the night both ways, so I can rest my messed up joint and ice the bejeebers out of it in between. He agreed.

I guess he didn't have much choice because the other choice was to fly him up there and let him pick up and load the truck himself, which he had already come up with about 10 reasons why that was impossible. So..yeah.

Next week, I'm going to be a sad miserable wreck in pain. And darn tootin' I'm going to blame my husband.