October 18, 2000


When I got out of bed this morning, I had four Cadbury chocolate bars stashed away in the top right-hand desk drawer, right here next to David's computer.

They were the big ones, too, a whopping .5 ounces each: two Caramello, two Fruit & Nut. I bought them at Walgreen's a few nights ago on the way home from work, when I sensed that we were moving into 72 Hours From Hell territory. (What can I tell you? Some months it's Tomato Jones, some months it's chocolate.) When I got home that night I stuck them into the drawer and promptly forgot all about them.

Until today.

I stayed home from work today. I stayed home from work yesterday, too. I really don't like staying home when I'm not sick, especially when my boss is several continents away: it seems like such a waste of perfectly good Franz-Free Time. But I knew that if I went into the office, I would wind up sitting there at my desk, weeping and yelling at people and eating chocolate and making a spectacle of myself all day.

MUCH better to do that sort of stuff right here, in the privacy of my own home.

I've only talked to Jaymi once today -- very early this morning, when I called and woke her and Joel up, in order to ask them if they were getting enough sleep -- but she sounded OK. Tired. Sad. "Wispy," we used to call it: that sad preoccupied far-away feeling we get sometimes, after we've lived through an ordeal. That's how she sounded.

After I talked to her, there were three candy bars left in the drawer.

I've spent the day pretty much exactly the same way I spent yesterday: next to the phone in case she calls/near the computer in case she i.m.'s ... tinkering under the hood of the website (don't yell at me about the new layout just yet, OK? it was either that or cut my hair again) ... listening to sad autumn songs: "Tomorrow Comes" by Edie Brickell is on the stereo right now, as I type this ... looking at photo albums ... curling up and napping every couple of hours, whenever the mood strikes ... swallowing Naproxen like breath mints ...

... reading my e-mail as it comes in, and reminding myself that I must be the luckiest Internet journaler on the planet: I swear to god, I am buying you ALL fruitcakes for Christmas ...

... and working my way through several ridiculously complex emotional processes simultaneously. Sorrow. Anxiety. Guilt. Relief. Hormonal nonsense. Generalized anger, at nobody in particular. Frustration, because I can't be there with her right now. (We have enough money stashed away for one more TicTac trip this year, and it's got to be Christmas.) Thankfulness that she's OK. Resignation. Hope. Determination. And deep, profound exhaustion ... inside and out. I am a veritable GUMBO of emotions today, basically.

And there are now two candy bars left in the drawer.

two years ago: narcolepsy

throw a rock