Decided have been working too much.
First clue was Mountain O' Laundry in bedroom. Have had to discourage passing climbing enthusiasts from attempting to reach her summit. Would not want anyone to get hurt. After calling in and leaving v. vague message for boss, spent morning in v. soft pink pajamas going about getting-ready ritual in extremely lazy fashion. Put on nearly-as-comfortable, yet suitable-for-work pants and thick turtleneck sweater and lugged parts of Mt. Fish to laundromat.
Concerned Roommate said that had survived worst of J fiasco.
H: Worst? How can that have been the worst? See, from where I stand (throwing Js fleece mourning shroud into industrial size dryer), the worst part is going to be waking up every morning and trying to come up with a reason to get out of bed.
CR: That's recovery.
H: Well, fuck recovery. Saturday night was like ripping off a band-aid. This is...
CR: I know.
Thing is, am v. well aware that CR knows of which she speaks. And was pleasantly surprised to wake this morning with gnawing achy feeling in stomach temporarily absent. Feel good for the moment. But am taking day in 15 minute intervals. Is bizarre carnival ride. Am fighting any inclinations to climb back into bed and spend day in coma. Alarmed self by passing entire weekend in said manner. Am so far succeeding and debating about whether to shirk work duties over weekend and head to city for much needed GalPal time. Might be just the thing. Grouchy employer couldn't begrudge yours truly time off to have decent mental breakdown. Indeed
Posted by This Fish at October 29, 2002 11:57 AM