Go With It

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling hungover from exhaustion – groggy, headachy, slightly nauseaous. I'd tried to get to bed early, really I had, but the evening routine took longer than I expected – it always does – and I puttered around for too long. I did manage to get to bed before midnight, which was an improvement. But the damage through the week had been done, and it all caught up with me yesterday.

It took an Espresso Doubleshot and a big travel mug of coffee to finally wake me up, but wake up I did, even managing to get to work on time. Struggled through the morning, sneaked outside for my lunchtime nap, got some work done in the afternoon, and dragged my sorry ass back to the house.

Brian made dinner, bless him, and we all played a game of Sorry that was ruthless and vindictive and great fun. Combined with Aeryn's rediscovery of her kid-sized video camera, the evening was full of laughter and happiness and I couldn't have wished for a better end to a really fucking long week.

The giggles and another cup of strong coffee woke me up enough to start working on a troublesome scene, only to find that the paltry efforts I'd made earlier in the week had been eaten by Open Office. This is the first time OO has failed to recover a document.

I wasn't horribly disappointed, which tells you something about my progress and the quality of the writing, both of which pretty much sucked ass. So I started over, and found that it was easier going somehow. No idea why. But at this point I don't question; I just go with it.

The final collapse into bed was heavenly, and I felt like I'd earned it this week.

Cut to this morning. Woke in Aeryn's bed, although I barely remember how I got there, at eight-thirty, more than two hours past my weekday wake-up call. Brian had made coffee my way – in other words, ridiculously strong – and I made the blueberry-banana muffins about which I'd been fantasizing for several days now. They were every bit as good as I'd hoped they would be.

It was the best morning I've had in a long time.

So this inconsequential, relatively drama-free post is based on nothing but a rare feeling of contentment. It will pass, as everything does. I'll see Sheba and be reminded that her leg isn't healing quite as well as I'd like; I'll go to the Apple Festival and be jostled by crowds and screaming kids; I'll have to watch the pennies this week because blah, blah-blah blah blah. Doesn't matter.

At this point I don't question; I just go with it, grateful for every second.

~Andi