Recently I wrote about working into the night to detail the compromised refrigerator so we could use it again. And the next morning I went to art class. It always begins with an art lecture by Stan that lasts about a half hour, and during which, under the best of circumstances, I want to nod off. I have low blood pressure and can’t sit unoccupied for a long time. The class lasts three hours, during which I o’d on coffee.

It is two days later and finally I am coming off the fatigue fog that started the night of the clean-up. I compounded it by forgetting to take my synthroid and by forgetting to take my vitamins. Despite my low energy, I forced the walk and the stretches and the jumps and crawled home and I also, after a nap, biked for a half hour, and then made a quick dinner (steak and potatoes and a salad).

This morning I got up feeling okay and was pleased. However, last night I fell into bed at 10 p.m., a full two hours earlier than usual, without any of my night time preparations and this morning I unloaded half the dishwasher before noticing that my hands were sticky because I had forgotten to run it last night. So I had to re-load it, hoping I remembered everything I had put away.
I also made coffee, as I usually do. We each drink one cup only, so I make half a pot. This morning I measured water up to the 4 mark and added the coffee, normally half a pre-measured package. But, without thinking, I put in the whole package. When it started talking to me and jumped out of the cup, I realized what I had done. Still, it tasted great.

Where, please, are the days I could work all night typing a manuscript for Jay, who churned it out, handing me pages every few minutes, so as to meet a late deadline, and go to work without a break come morning (albeit a bit paranoid?) When it took him a little longer, I'd sack out on the piano bench till he was ready. If I had used the bed, it would have been all over. Jay managed by taking a quarter of a Benny tablet every four hours. I can't tolerate benzedrine after an unfortunate experience in my 20s that made me suicidal, so I chose to work unfortified except for soup and coffee.

Some years ago sleep deprivation was researched and subjects were forcibly kept awake. The results were hallucinations and paranoia. I totally relate.

xx, Teal