19 September 2001
Last year: An ineffable sensation of worry mixed with curiosity.
OW. Ow, ow, ow. My crown is bothering me again. I do believe, when I go in again in November, the dentist is going to recommend a root canal. That sucks. It'll suck even more if it doesn't fix the problem. I haven't been able to eat anything on that side of my mouth for three months, now.
Advil is my friend.
Yesterday around two, I realized that I was getting tired. I kept looking around for my glasses, in fact, because I was so tired I couldn't focus my eyes, even with the glasses on.
I went home and promptly went to bed. I heard Matt get home from work, but fell asleep again before I could do more than mumble.
Around 5:45, he came in and kissed my cheek. "I'm going to the blood drive," he said.
The blood drive. Oh, yeah. I hadn't forgotten it, actually - I'd thought of it on the way home from work. At the time, my thought had been, I'll take a nap, and then go with Matt to the blood drive.
But when he came in to tell me he was going, I couldn't even think about getting out of bed. I buried my head under a pillow as I heard the door close behind him.
I woke up for good about half an hour later. I felt pretty bad for missing the blood drive. I felt less bad fifteen minute later when Matt got back home. No matter how fast that bag fills up, they keep you at least twenty minutes at the juice-and-cookies table. There was no way he'd gone over to the college, given blood, and come back in forty-five minutes.
"They stopped taking people at four," Matt announced when he came in. "But they gave me a list of future blood drive locations."
Cash donations are always welcome, too. I think perhaps this weekend we'll sit down and decide how much we want to give, and to which assorted funds and charities.
Tired, oh yes indeedy. I went to bed a little before 10 last night - less than four hours after a two and a half hour nap, mind you. I didn't actually fall asleep until about 10:30, but that's still pretty early for me. And I'm still dragging a little this morning.
I was only up until a little after one Monday night; I shouldn't be this zonked! Is this my reaction to our national tragedy - my physiological reaction to the horror and sadness and fear? Am I getting sick?
(It occurs to me that people's immune systems function less when when they're stressed. I envision a national epidemic of colds and other airborne viruses in the next two to six weeks. Everyone start taking some extra vitamin C, okay?)
I got almost an excess of sleep this weekend, and I'm still half-dazed and tired. Sleeping isn't doing any good. I need a new plan of attack. But what? Does anyone else have this problem? What do you do about it?
Word of the Day:
expatiate - 1: to move about freely or at will, wander; 2: to speak or write at length or in detail
Song of the Day:
I'm A Bitch (Meredith Brooks)
Currently Reading:
- Touched by the Gods (Ha! I remembered the title! It's still a mediocre book, though.)
Current Projects:
- drawing
- Hall stuff
- garden