Saturdays = evil

So one of the things that I have come to realize (after however many years) is that Saturdays are my worst day of the week. Some people may be going out for picnics, or walking the dog, or shopping, but I usually am curled up in a ball of pain for at least half of the day Saturday. I think it works like such: All week long, I get up early (4:30) and work and sometimes hit the gym, or sometimes do other things (come home and read or blog-I have another blog that posts to my college friends & such) and I just keep on truckin. Oh and Tuesdays are therapy days (yes I go to therapy. because my little head is not able to function well with all the body stuff being as it is). But basically I just chug along through the week, same routine. Right around 7-8pm Friday night, my chest starts to get kinda tight, and painful, like I maybe have heartburn. I take my night time meds, and go to bed. Usually pretty early. I'm no night owl. Saturday, I wake up at the regular time, 4:30, just so I can take my medications at around the same time each day, and then go back to sleep for as long as my cutiepie dog will let me (8ish). When I do get up, there is a world of pain. Mostly located in the shoulders and neck, and my chest. Breathing is a nasty endeavor. Some days my hands get The CLAW looking going, all stiff and creepy and swollen, and sometimes my knees will be finicky too. But usually it is the breathing, and the constant nausea. I think this happens because my body knows it is a day off. It knows I don't have to go to work. It knows I can sleep in, and be lazy all day, and not have to be presentable or functional. But the thing is, I've been trying to not be so lazy lately. I want to be productive on weekends. I want to not waste Saturdays. So, unless it is really unreasonable, I'm now forcing things to happen on Saturdays. Like today, today I got up at 8 (per the pup) and we had breakfast (eggs, toast, and some plain nasty yogurt with mashed banana because I hate plain yogurt) and had some tea. My older sister came over, and at 10:30 she, my mom, and I went to the Humane Society to pick up her new dog (a 30yr old pitbull/sharpei mix named Levi). We collected him, then later I took my own dog to the puppy park and we stayed out in the lovely 50's weather for an hour (I tried not to get too much sun....but I love the warmth!) and then came home, and napped. We took in a show at the local high school, and now will have some water, and then to bed. Not AS productive as some people on Saturday, but considering I just plodded through the pain of the day, I think it went well. I think it means that even if my body doesn't want to work on Saturday, I can still get things done. Another little goal sort of reached. woot.