Different Kinds of Crazy Here

There's what you have after a trip: mail, newspapers, pile of random stuff you didn't deal with before you went away, wilted flowers, stuff in the fridge that should have been thrown out.

There's the stuff related to the sick cat: medications, pill shooter, canned cat food and jars of baby food, notes from the pet sitter.

There's the return detritus: bags to be unpacked, cooler to be put away, where's the camera.

There's the satellite of sickness: chicken noodle soup, medications, dishes that need to go in the dishwasher, pan from the scrambled eggs.

Then there's realizing that you might not be well enough to go see Stephanie tomorrow night, but not having the energy to get too worked up about it.

There's being determined to be well enough to go to the funeral of a friend's father, on Thursday morning. As long as I'm not coughing ... I don't want to be a disruption.

There have been a lot of naps here. I even had bed spins this afternoon. Very strange sensation: part of my body knows that I'm lying perfectly still, just breathing, but there's a part of my body that is positive I'm spinning round and round.

Looking on the bright side: I don't have to call in sick anywhere. I always hate that, I always feel like I don't sound sick. I've never in my life called in sick to work when I wasn't sick, I'm too superstitious and sure I'd get a migraine as soon as I did, but still, I feel like they don't believe I'm really sick.

There's remembering how glorious the trees looked this weekend. More on that later. Going to lie down now.