What a weird, weird, weird day. And not in the good way.I didn't sleep well at all; I must have gotten up to pee four or five times. In between I was having very intense dreams, but it was the last one before I finally woke up -- around 4:30 -- that did me in. But I didn't get out of bed for an hour after that (except for the bathroom, of course) because that would have meant doing all the Hubs' morning cat chores, and there's a can of worms I never want to open.
What was the dream about? Oh nothing. One of my children was killed in a terrorist attack, that's all.
And then I woke up, and remembered that the other one is planning on taking part in some anti-prez demonstration in D.C. tomorrow.
That was enough. Plus I didn't feel so good in the tummy, for a change, and hadn't slept. Heigh-ho, heigh-ho. Off to work I ... went.
At which point I saw the posters up for the drama club's spring play, and wondered if R knew, because she was going to be writing a play for them to put on and this wasn't it. Now I realized that it was going to be up to me to tell her when I got home.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, sucky day.
I'm making a little light of it now because I'm better, but I was not in good spirits. In fact, I was feeling more depressed -- or, "down" as my bipolar mother always called it -- than I have in a very long time. Lunchtime rolled around, and although I was very hungry, I had no appetite. I just couldn't eat. I left my frozen meal in the library fridge and went down to the faculty room armed with a power bar and my iced tea. After that, of course, Chum and I headed out on the traditional lunchtime-ride-around-town so she can smoke, since there's no smoking on school grounds.
I'm telling you, I could feel the warmth from the lightbulb -- neon -- flashing over my head.
Now, don't anybody get all crazy here, but I had a smoke. One smoke. Baby, let me tell you, I felt the tension melt away. How the hell does it do that? It was bliss.
I endured the after-lunch school day for a while, and then bailed about forty-five minutes early. I came home, found out that R had assumed they would be doing another play since hers isn't finished yet, and went to sleep on the couch for a good long time, maybe an hour and a half (after eating a really nice omelet). I didn't hear the phone ring, I didn't hear UPS ring the doorbell.
So there's my day. All I need now is to hear K on the phone Thursday night telling me she's safe at home in her apartment (that's practically in Maryland, far from the Capitol and the Mall), and I'll be just fine. For now, anyway.
