One-sided conversation with my brain

So, speaking of anxiety and things I can't control...

Last night, I was sitting in the living room late at night with Boy-child. Neither one of us could sleep and so we sat and just talked. We discussed his new fish, and what he did on his mission trip, and then came around to high school, which he begins this fall.

It was really only about 30 minutes, but it was a nice thing. Hanging out. Just the two of us quietly chatting.

And then we went to our own beds and I lay down to try to sleep.

BRAIN: Hey! Guess what? Your son is starting high school! Do remember high school? Do you remember how much it sucked for you? What if it sucks for him, too? What are you going to do then, huh? Do you remember that you were only a little older than he is now when your mom died? Do you? Huh? Huh? It was the last day of your freshman year, so you were fifteen. Way to start your summer break. Geez. I mean, seriously, your body is probably already riddled with cancer and you're dying right now and you're going to leave your kids and hubby alone just like your mom did. What would their life be like? Cycle back to the beginning and start over. Let's beat this dead horse to a bloody pulp, shall we? I mean, you don't really need sleep, right? It's not like you have to get up in the morning. Oh, wait, yes you do! Ha! Hey, let's sing "She's a maniac!" She's a maniac! Maniac on the floor! And she's dancing like she's never danced before. Tra La La.

Yeah - this is my brain. And it's no wonder I'm tired all the time. Leave it to my brain to give me something else to stress about that I have no control over. One thing is for sure, I'm going to get every cancer screening I can think of. Hateful disease. Stupid anxiety.

TTFN
JMS

Boy Scouts are stinky after a week at camp

I did a good job last week not saying anything about how Hubby and Boy-Child were gone all week long at Boy Scout camp in North Carolina.  It was just me, and Girl-Child, and I didn't want to give any creepers an opportunity to...well...be creepy. So everyone is home now and my world has returned to semi-normal.

When my boys are gone, and especially when Hubby is gone, I do not sleep well. The first night they were gone I was up practically all night. I think I finally fell asleep around 2:30 and was up again around 5:15. I remember seriously considering just throwing it to the wind and skipping church, but Girl-Child had to perform her Acolyte duties at the 11AM service, and it was Promotion Sunday (the day the kids who are rising grades move into their new classrooms; Girl-Child was moving up to YOUTH!) so we had to go to church.  I think I managed not to act like a zombie, but I sure felt like one.

Then, Sunday night, I let Girl-Child sleep in bed with me. But she kick and hogs the bed. She claims I steal covers, but whether I did or not (I claim not), I figure it's just desserts for only having 1/4 of the queen size bed. How a 10 year old can take up so much room is beyond me. She actually put her feet into the small of my back at one point and pushed. That was when I got up, shoved her over and said, "You have to move, or you're going back to your own room." She reluctantly relinquished a few scant inches and I climbed back in. Needless to say, on Monday night, she was back in her own bed.

So, you may be wondering what in the world I did with Girl-Child while I was at work all week? Well, I have wonderful, amazing, giving friends. One of whom graciously agreed to take her on all week. Not just to keep her at her home and keep her safe, but she fed her, did fun stuff, and was even up waaaay earlier than normal just to receive her at the door. I cannot express how much it meant to not only know that my girl was safe, but that she was with someone I trust implicitly. We were even invited to dinner on Tuesday night, which was a repast beyond expectation. Seriously, grilled steak and chicken, steamed broccoli, baked potatoes, grilled shrimp on skewers; wine. It was yum! They kept Girl-child overnight on Wednesday night - so I didn't see her from Wednesday morning until I got off of work on Thursday night. (A long time alone; and it was weird. I didn't really know what to do with myself.)

Oh, and I broke a toe kicking a chair. I didn't kick the chair on purpose; it did nothing wrong. My foot slipped as I tried to push my chair back and away from the dinner table, kicked the leg of another chair which was occupied. My toe was not was simply not enough force to make that chair move, so my toe went CRUNCH! And I went YIPE! Yes, yes - I assured my gracious hosts - I'm perfectly fine. I finished inner with grace and aplomb, hobbled to my car later, and went home to nurse my swollen, purple toe. It feels better now, but YOWIE! I don't like breaking toes. I've done it before and it hurts, by golly! It's much better now; a week later. But still twinges if I step wrong.  The swelling and bruising is mostly gone, except for a couple of spots. I expect I'll live to see another day.

The week passed slowly, with little decent sleep, and then it was Saturday and my boys were coming home! Girl-Child and I went to the Lavender Festival and had a blast. Picked up a Father's Day gift for Hubby, looked at all kinds of fun stuff, ate Italian Ice before lunch, bought a new outfit for her doll whom she adores (we get a new one every year; they're handmade by the vendor), I got a henna tattoo on my hand, Girl-Child filled a sand necklace, made a card for her daddy for Father's day, we saw lots of people we know and love. Then we went to visit some of our animal friends during an adoption event. And suddenly, it was time to go welcome the boys home!

Girl-Child made a sign - WELCOME HOME TROOP 129 - and we held it up street-side and waved furiously as the big yellow bus full of tired and stinky scouts rumbled back into the church parking lot. There was loud beeping and excitement and both Hubby and Boy-Child were pleased with their warm welcome.

I'm glad to have my boys home. We're back to our usual daily chaos, which, as much as the chaos makes me absolutely CRAZY, I miss it when it's not there.

TTFN
JMS

PS: Remind me to tell you about the time Boy-Child sliced open his hand and finger with a knife. That's a good story. (Ugh.) File it under, "At Least He Didn't Die," or "It Couldda Been Worse."

Wild Things

If you have anyone else living in your home (doesn't matter who) have you ever felt like you're constantly stepping on, stepping over, stepping around or picking up stuff that doesn't belong wherever it is? (Usually on the floor.)

I had a rough night last night. I watched the time on the clock slowly creep toward midnight and was still mentally wired. I had a zillion things zinging around inside my skull so it was impossible to settle. As my brain played pinball, (TILT!) I fussed at things, picked stuff up, looked through a file for something I was trying to find, did laundry, fixed the dishwasher, took the trash out (twice), made sure everything I could recycle was in the recycle bin, scooped the litter box, and generally buzzed around (another analogy) like a fly caught in a Mason jar.

Eventually, I gravitated toward the bedroom realizing that the clock had gone well past midnight and was closing solidly in on 2:30AM. Physically, I was exhausted. Mentally, I was wired. Those two things don't make for restful sleep. Further, both fur kids decided it was time to seek revenge for earlier in the day when I played Alpha Female and captured them to clip nails and apply their monthly flea meds. There was much roaring of terrible roars, gnashing of terrible teeth, rolling of terrible eyes, and showing of terrible claws. (Usually directed at my feet under the covers.) Thanks, Maurice Sendak.

Needless to say, I'm not myself today. I'm tired, my head feels fuzzy, and I can't concentrate very well. Thank goodness for being busy or I'd be taking a nap under my desk. I'm expecting a busy night tonight, as well. Maybe I'll be able to get in bed before 10PM?

Wish me luck!

TTFN
JMS

SERIES: Jen's Library (#6)

NANCY KRESS'S BEGGARS IN SPAIN

Published in 1993, this one’s another sci-fi novel and I need to say that for me, Beggars in Spain is purely literary candy.  On the one hand, the book seems somewhat plausible and almost potentially scary, but on the other hand, it is so far-fetched as to be totally unbelievable.  It’s the future and scientists have discovered a way for couples to choose how their children will turn out.  For example, if you wanted your child to have blue hair and blonde eyes (yes, I did that on purpose) you could give them the genetic predisposition for those attributes.  If you wanted your child to be musical, or athletic, predispositions could be genetically coded.  But those who would choose to augment their unborn children in such a way also had the ability to choose another option: sleeplessness.  To never require sleep.  Ever.  The book follows one such genetically modified person (and her non-modified “normal” twin sister) and cycles through society’s thoughts on the matter: hate, fear, protest, retaliation, segregation and acceptance.  Not necessarily in that order.  Spaceships are involved (and holograms) which is just cool - but more than that, it’s a study in science-fictional sociology.

TTFN
JMS

Girl-child Drama

Oh. My. Golly. Golly. Goshness! (That’s my polite way of saying it’s been an amazingly hectic weekend.)

Friday night, both kiddos spent the night at their friends’ house.  (Same house.  Same friends.  Brother friends with brother.  Sister friends with sister.  It works out because they all get along so well and because the friends have brave, amazing parents.)  Anyway – sleepover night.

Saturday night, girl-child attended a sleepover birthday party with five girls. 

Sunday arrived.  Mom of sleepover party birthday girl brings girl-child to church and I can tell from the second I see girl-child that she’s not just tired, she’s TIRED!  Purple-circles-under-her-eyes-and-pale-skin-tired.  This isn’t the mom’s fault; far from it.  But when you get five 8 and 9 year old girls in one place for a sleepover, giggling ensues and little actual sleep happens.

Anyway, girl-child makes it through Sunday school and now we’re about 15-20 minutes into actual church service when (pardon me) all Hell breaks loose.

I was multi-tasking, which, truth be told, I shouldn't have been doing during church service, but I was trying to coordinate boy-child who had lucked out and was able to stay another night at the first friend’s house and so wasn't at church with us.  Friends were trying to figure out swimming at the fitness center but realized they’d need a parent to sign him in.  Hubby and I were both in church, so I was trying to politely ask if they could wait until we were done.  Meanwhile, girl-child had read two words of the text: “brother” and “swimming” and had an absolute meltdown.  Red-faced, crocodile tears, “brother always gets to do all the fun stuff and I don’t!”  No amount of consolation or hushing worked so I resorted to removing her from the situation.

Luckily, hubby and I drove in separately this morning so I was able to take girl-child home. 

When we got home, girl-child went directly to bed.  She did not pass “Go.”  She did not collect $200.00.  She slept for two solid hours.  When she woke up (on her own) she was immediately provided with a snack and some juice to tide her over until lunch could be had.

Then, for the rest of the day, a wonderful afternoon at the very-crowded park, and dinner with friends, she was perfectly fine.  Until we hit about 6:45 PM when TIRED reared its ugly head again and she wanted to go home.  “Mom, I’ve just really had a rough day.  I think I need to go home.” 

Now, she is soaking in a warm bath (with her hair piled on top of her head so it won’t get wet), playing with her bath toys (a beluga whale from Mystic Seaport and a black horse that has hair and spots that change color in warm water), sipping on a cold Perrier (“Mom! Can I have a drink, please?  I’m really thirsty!”), she’s happy.  Not “singing” happy, but happy.

Good thing this upcoming week is Spring Break or tomorrow might be a difficult school day.

TTFN

JMS

That elusive thing called Sleep

As most of you probably have figured out, I love sleep just about as much as I love coffee.  Sleep, however, is becoming more and more elusive for me and I must say: I really don’t like it.  (Hubby would probably be making comments here right now about snoring and stealing covers, but he rarely reads my blog so, whatever.  It’s funny, the person I most want to read my blog…doesn’t.  I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t care, he just doesn’t want to take the time to read all these words.  It is the same with when I’m telling him something face to face; there comes a point in any conversation where I can see he’s tuned me out and isn’t really listening anymore.  It’s OK.  I’m pretty sure it’s a guy thing.)

Anyway – back to sleep.  Or, more accurately, the lack of it.

So the other night it was about 11:30 and I had put away Netflix for the evening because I felt it was in my best interest to attempt a few hours of sleep in order to be fully prepared for work the next day.  (This would have been Sunday night, I believe.)  Here’s how that went:

Flop.

                                Shift.

                                                                Flop again.

                                                                                                Sigh.

Hm…I’ve never noticed that red light before, I wonder what that is...?

                Flop.  Sigh.

                                What time is it?

                11:40 PM.

                                                Sit up.  Pound pillow in frustration.  Adjust, adjust.  Sigh.

Blink, blink.  That street light is awfully bright.  I really need to get some black out curtains.

                Hm…I wonder what time it is?

                                                11:45 PM.

Crap.  Am I gonna do this all night?

Flop.  Adjust, adjust.  I think I might need a snack.

                                No, you don’t need a snack, dummy!  It’s almost midnight and you’re counting calories.

But…please?

                NO!  Stay where you are…I’m warning you!

                                But…can’t I just go look in the fridge?

Oh, for heaven’s sake!

                                                FLOP!  SIGH!  POUND POUND!  Crap!  Did I just wake up hubby?

This, essentially, went on in a similar form or fashion until about 2:30 AM when my exhausted brain and body finally gave in to that elusive thing called sleep.  I woke at 5:15 AM to take my thyroid medicine (as I always do), fully expecting to sleep another 30-45 minutes (as I always do) but NO-OOO!  I was awake now.  Not as in simply not asleep anymore.  I was A-W-A-K-E!

Dammit.

OK. 

So, going back to the Netflix thing.  It seems to be that the more occupied my brain is with other things the less likely I am to sleep.  I try to numb my brain into submission by occupying it with something else, like reading (which doesn’t work as well as it used to) or, now, Netflix or Amazon Prime movies and TV shows.  If I’m watching a movie, I choose something I’ve seen so that I might grow bored earlier and drift off to the Land of Nod without missing something exciting, or, at the very least interesting.  If I’m watching a TV show, it’s harder because if the show is good, I want to binge watch and immediately move right on to the next episode, and the next, and the next, and before I know it it’s nearly midnight…again.

Reading used to help a lot.  I’d get into a book and, regardless of how good the book was, I’d eventually get to a point where I realized I was reading the same sentence over and over and over again.  I’m off reading right now, though.  I haven’t found anything lately that piques my interest and I don’t want to re-read any of my old standbys.  I guess I’m in a Reading Rut.

I know there are a bazillion tricks that people all over the world have to help one sleep.  Counting sheep, sleeping on your left side instead of your right, changing your pillow, adding a pillow, removing a pillow, turning down the house temperature, meditating (something I’ve NEVER been good at, though I’ve tried hundreds of times), warm milk (ick), warm bath…  The list goes on and on.

Counting sheep bores me.  I already sleep on my left side.  I switch out my pillow situation about every other night.  Hubby keeps the house temp at 67° at night anyway, which is either too cold, or too warm.  And that’s another thing, I’m usually TOO WARM.  But if I kick off the covers, then I’m too cold.  If I cover up, and kick one foot/leg out that helps, but then when I turn over I get all woozled (yes, woozled) up and I have to start all over again.

I won’t bore you with more.  I’m sure, if you’re human (and possibly a female human in her forties) you’ve been through this.  I envy those who can put their head on a pillow and be out like a light in about thirty seconds (ahem…girl-child!).  My friend, Scoop, can put his head down, be asleep in about thirty seconds, sleep hard for like five minutes, and wake up completely refreshed and ready to go.  I’ve never understood folks like that.

Anyway – wish me luck.  This time, it’s been about a week since I’ve slept through the night.  Not taking into account the night when I took some cold medicine and was down for the count.  That’s medicated sleep, which I do not recommend as a viable alternative to the real thing.

TTFN

JMS

Patience vs. Will Power vs. Caffiene

• For all those times when all you want to do is stay snuggled, safe and warm, in your bed and ignore your alarm clock because it’s cold or rainy outside and really, what’s your motivation?  
• For all the times you say “no” to your alarm clock.  Or the dog who has to go outside to pee.  Or to your own bladder, for that matter (ha!  How clever am I?)  Or the child who got up at the BCOD.
• For all those times you say to yourself just five more minutes and then those five minutes turn into ten, then twenty and now, suddenly, you’re going to be late. 
• For all those times that you think I really don’t need a shower (yes, you really do, I promise) so you use the time you would have taken up by showering to catch a few more minutes of shut-eye. 
• For all those times when you’re allergy-ridden and therefore you resort to a full dose of medication like Benadryl or Zyrtec and then the next morning (and possibly well into the next afternoon) you are decidedly zombie-like.
• For all those times when you’re sitting at your desk trying desperately to focus on the task at hand but your chin somehow keeps winding up in your hand and you continually find your head inching closer and closer to a full face-plant on the keyboard.  (Just imagine the pretty, lettered impressions on your cheek.)
• For all those times when it takes everything in your power not to shove your chair back, kick your feet up on the nearest elevated surface, lean as far back as your chair will allow and just close your eyes for two minutes all the while knowing if that actually happens there will be a full-on Drool & Snore Fest.

TTFN
JMS

Uh oh! I am in SO much trouble!

If you could see me right now, you’d see me shaking my head and (to hubby’s vexation) rolling my eyes.

My dear daughter is going to be the death of me.  With apologies to any gentleman readers I may be so lucky to have garnered, if I didn’t know she was seven years old, I would say she was fourteen and pre-menstrual.  All. The. Time.  

She’s so frustrating!  Everything is drama.  Everything is always wrong.  It seems she is always ticked off at someone for some imagined slight.  Every response is clipped and snotty.  “No” is her favorite word.  It doesn’t matter what we do, or don’t do, to incentivize her. Threatening her with loss of things she cares about (blankie, her stuffed dog, Cathy) doesn’t change anything; it just makes her madder.  Or, she’ll start to cry those big crocodile tears, turn red, and storm out of the room hollering, “FINE! I’LL JUST GO IN MY ROOM AND NEVER COME OUT AGAIN!”

Please tell me this ends soon, and I’m not in for another seven, eight, nine years of this stuff?  I might have to go jump off the nearest bridge.

As tough as she is when she’s awake, however, she is a dream (pun intended) at bedtime.  After the struggle of getting her ready for bed, once she is actually in bed she’s usually asleep in about 5 minutes. She’s always been this way.  By contrast, her brother, my dear son, is quite the opposite.

He’s much easier than she is (I’ve been told boys are easier than girls anyway – and so far, this is proving true in our household) but at night, he’s a nightmare (pun intended).  He either has nightmares and wakes up scared, or he can’t sleep; almost every single night.  Last night was no exception. I'd fallen into an exhausted sleep, but I was having a really terrible dream, so I was initially grateful to him when he woke me up with, “Mooo-om!  I can’t sleep!”  But actually, and unusually, I was somewhat scared myself (all I remember was that it was a doozy of a dream) and feeling like a chicken so I didn’t want to get out of bed.  “Come on in here, buddy!” I hollered at him.

And like lightning, he was at my side.  His little heart beating like hummingbirds wings.  Poor kid. So I tucked him in beside me and we snuggled for a bit.  I, drifting unfortunately back into a different, but equally stressful dream, and he, lying awake and staring at the ceiling.  Finally, “Mom?  Just let me know when you want me to go back to my room, OK?”

Me: Huh?

Him: Tell me when you want me to go back to my room.

Me: You want to go back?

Him: Yeah.

Me: OK – I’m coming.

I follow him into his room, tuck him back in, and go to the kitchen for a glass of water.  Great.  Now I’m awake.  He and I probably spent the rest of the night with one or the other (or both) of us awake. 

Unfortunately, this is a pretty consistent pattern with him.  He has never slept well.  So while he’s usually cheerful and a delight to be around during the day, he’s a pain in my butt at night.  And while she is becoming more and more troublesome during the day, she’s always been easy to deal with at night.  Don’t get me wrong, she is a very sweet and loving child (or has been, up until recently) but…SHEESH!

Is it any wonder that I a) LOVE coffee and b) sleep in as often as it is possible to do so?

Also, in case you’re wondering, Hubby is completely deaf in one ear.  So, if he’s sleeping on his good ear he hears none of this.  Ever.  So yes, the creatures I birthed are mine after dark.  (Hm…I guess this adds more credence to those friends who have always believed I was somewhat vampiric?)  Mwahahaha!!! 

TTFN
JMS

Thank you!

Ah…the moment when you realize that the thing you’ve been preparing for, for months and months and months, is over.  And then that other moment when you realize that you’re so tired you can’t really enjoy it!  LOL! 

What I mean to say is that Vacation Bible School at my church is now officially completed for 2014 and, though I am exhausted, I have nothing but good things to say!

I had an excellent (truly excellent) team behind me.  It would be nearly impossible to call them all out, but let me touch on a few:

Richard.  You headed up crafts for the second year in a row and did an amazing job.  Your entire team, without exception, came to me to let me know how well organized, fun, and creative you are and how they were proud to have been on your team. 

Emmily.  Your culinary creations are always sure to please, and this year was no exception.  You and your kitchen crew seriously rocked it…again! 

Paul.  My sound guy!  Thank you for microphones and music and putting up with my indecision with a smile and a goofy hashtag!  #youareawesome!

Patty.  The party.  Ah – what can I say about the closing celebration and party except that it was, as always, another resounding success.  You never cease to amaze me.  You and your entire team are to be commended for giving the kids just one more reason why VBS at Kern is the best in town!

Ashley.  Music is alway so much fun, and you make it even more so!  The kiddos absolutely adore you, and I do, too!  Thank you for making our Tribal Tunes awesome!  Something about hashtags needs to go here, too!  How about I copy Paul's: #youareawesometoo

Debbie.  I couldn’t do this without you.  I truly could not.  You are the glue that binds me together when I am about to come apart at the seams.  You are the needle and thread that sews up all my frayed edges.  You are the iron that smooths out all my wrinkles (and not the ones that are on my face).  You are the cheese!  (I just wanted to say that.  You aren’t really cheese.  Cheese-y, maybe, but not cheese.)

Tom. Who knew that Moses would be so popular?  You have an innate way of engaging kids and making them understand difficult, Biblical concepts in a fun way.  I see it every year, Plunger Man.  You rock!

Jamie.  You are my other half.  My better half.  The person I can count on when everything else is going wrong.  Thank you for your help and your constant trust in me.  I love you!

My Group Guides, all twenty-something of you, were SPOT ON!  THANK YOU!  We couldn’t have had such a successful VBS without you!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you – all of you! 

Normally, I would sign of with my usual TTFN JMS – but I think today requires something…more.

How about:

I love you all!

Jennifer

Zombie Apocalypse

Nope. Not that kind of zombie apocalypse. The kind where the groaning, grunting, wordless, stumbling, shuffling, practically blind bi-peds are moving, as a group, arms extended, hands desperately gripping small, porcelain vessels, toward the black, hot, life-affirming, caffeinated goodness that is the first cup of coffee.

It's not just me, right?

You've seen 'em, too?

TTFN
JMS

PS: In case anyone was wondering, my son calls this my Life Juice.  Pretty cool, huh?

Thor's party in the sky kept me awake all night (but I didn't call the cops)

Last night, we had major storm warnings and watches all over this area.  Normally I don't worry too much about storms.  They don't scare me.  In fact, I kind of like them.  (Except those thunder BOOMS that wake you out of a dead sleep as if Thor had smashed the house with Mjölnir.)  But, I am going to admit, here and now, that I let the warnings get to me. 

I couldn't settle.  I tried reading (which is a nightly routine that helps me fall asleep, just as hubby's is to find an old black & white documentary) but that didn't work; I couldn't concentrate on what I was reading and kept being interrupted by the lightning and thunder.  (I'm telling you, Thor was in a tizzy about something last night.)  I got up to get something to drink (grapefruit juice and ginger ale, yum), I stood looking out the kitchen window for a while and watched the activity in the sky, I checked on the kids multiple times, I gathered stuff for the utility room just in case we had to take shelter, I found a pitiful candle and a lighter, I found a flashlight...

I finally crawled back into bed (it's now about 1AM and waaay past my bedtime) and turned on the radio to the talk station I like, knowing they'd have emergency weather-related break-ins to regular programming, and I lay there and listened.  I listened to the sounds of the guys on the radio, if not really what they were talking about (it was just noise) but what I really listening for is the emergency broadcast system beeps - we all know what they sound like.  And all the ones I heard had the storms just to the south of us.  So all the storm activity I was seeing and hearing was, apparently, pitiful when compared to what the counties to the south of mine were seeing. 

I don't know, exactly, what time I drifted off, but it was probably close to 2:30 am.  Needless to say, I am tired today.  I know that there are going to be a lot of other really tired people around today, too, so I need to be sensitive to that and not selfishly hanging on to my own exhaustion.  There will be no time to nap, though.  I have a 4:30 pm meeting at the church tonight, and another one at 6:00 pm; I'll be there until 7:30 or 8:00 tonight.  And then, as if that's not enough, we're expected to get another round of heavy storms tonight; so more not sleeping.

TTFN
JMS

Contemplating the Complexities of Life - at 3AM

Last night was one of those nights. Hubby and I settled in to watch G.I. Joe: Retaliation but he fell asleep pretty quickly. I watched the entire movie - which was a good source of entertainment. Sometime after the movie was over, though, Little Bit got up and decided she needed me. This is unusual, because she's my good sleeper and doesn't ever get up unless there's something wrong. So I did the mommy thing. I snuggled with her for a bit, got her resettled, tucked her in, made sure she had her stuffed dog and her blankie, and made sure she was asleep again.

Good deal.

For her, yes. For me? Not so much.

I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, contemplating the complexities of life, worrying about stuff that adults worry about and generally not sleeping.

Finally, though, about 4:30AM, I went out - deeply. Only to be awakened with much confusion and frustration at 5:15AM to take my daily thyroid meds.

So here I am now, running on empty and wondering how I'm going to make it through my day.

Hopefully it won't be one of those days.

TTFN
JMS