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Making and flipping French toast while scrambling to find a copy shop in Berkeley that delivers, and can take on a last minute project, while coordinating details with Shane who’s on the road while submitting files through Kinkos online system while negotiating cartoon strip size for the newsletter with the very talented Dave2 while letting the dogs out while leaving messages for health plan salespeople while putting together today’s studio calendar while gathering up the tae-kwon-do uniforms and folders for today while brewing coffee while trying to remember details about the next proposal that’s due Thursday so we don’t get caught pulling our hair out at the last minute again.

I’d like to say that all that means is that the weekend’s over, but then our weekends tend to look a little like that sometimes too.

Should’ve made the coffee first.

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I’m a fast, light sleeper. I can operate pretty well on about 6 or 7 hours a night, just about every night for years at a time, and can rarely push it longer than that. Nor do I ever sleep very deeply. A rustle outside or Shane clearing his throat in his sleep or a soft shutting of a bathroom door or a light flickering on in the next room can easily wake me and once I’m awake, it’s tough for me to get back to sleep again. I have an unprovable theory that my brain never actually shuts down, it’s a 24/7 machine, daydreaming, planning, sensing, experiencing, long after my body collapses. Any little bit of external stimuli is enough for it to latch on to, and it’s off and running.

Today after getting some stuff done in the morning at the office and grabbing some lunch I felt like I had to lay down, maybe for a quick siesta on the office couch before it was time to go get Ryan at 2:30. I curled up, rested 10 or 15 minutes without sleeping, remember thinking briefly about getting up and then… black. Empty.

I opened my eyes and looked around, Sarah was asleep next to me on the floor and I heard voices outside. It took me awhile to understand where I was, to notice that Shane was gone. It seemed like hours had passed. Sarah must have sensed I was awake and sat up, then she went out to the front office and found Shane talking to Sherri and George who’d stopped by for a few minutes while they were in town. I got up and sat at my desk, they came in and we talked for a little bit. I’m sure they can attest to how groggy and out of it I was.

After they left, Shane told me that when they came in he’d tried to wake me, even by shaking me - no response or reaction. I’m sure it would’ve seemed like something might be wrong had he not heard me breathing.

Maybe I was finally trying to reclaim that extra hour a day I’ve missed for the last 35 years. The math equation of which is both interesting and a little alarming: I’ve been alive for close to 13,000 days.

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Posted by tee in photos, sense of place
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Sarah’s got a hot chocolate + cookies Christmas Cheer party to go to late this afternoon with her buddies at the Boys & Girls Club. Whoever said autism and homeschooling combined was the equivalent of a social death sentence did not know this child.

Shane’s working 8am-10pm, Ryan’s working 11am-5pm, I’m “officially” working 9-11, 12-3, 4-6, 8-10. Unless you consider parenting a teenager and a preteen with special needs nearly 24/7 without the help of school or daycare, serving as taxi cab, leveling laundry mountains, making coffee, homeschooling, scheduling/juggling four lives, volunteering, wrangling needy pets, trying to keep the building wave moving, planning a wedding and attempting to keep track of seven dozen different sock pairs to be work, too, in which case I haven’t had a shift off since May of ‘91.

(Ouch. Did I really just pull the tortured mother card? I must really be tired.)

Cats like Oreo with that static-y, angora-like fur make a perfect Swiffer^TM for the dusty TV screen. Though I suggest a good pair of elbow-length gloves if you’re gonna try it.

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Shane and I have been tag-teaming the errands today; this time being his turn which leaves me alone in the building now that all the sane and healthy people have gone home for the day. I locked up the front doors and took my shoes off, wandered over to the break room for a dill pickle and a glass of ice water. Hoping I can catch up on my project list before it’s my turn again at 7:30.

Big moon out there as the sun set, tawdry yellow against hazy pink like a scene in a children’s book, complete with a freight train that bullied its way by a little while ago, horn wailing, its single beam of light making me squint as I parked close enough to be rattling as it passed. Won’t be home ’til late tonight. I think Shane’s picking up some salads and root beer while he’s out.

Very much a Monday.

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