A big thank you to Linda and Doug, for graciously watching my daughter while I took a picnic blanket into their backyard after arriving for a cookout, and sacked out for a couple of hours. Actually, "sacked out" doesn't really describe it; I spent part of the time sleeping and other parts of the time thinking -- about the past, the future, mistakes I make in my newspaper career and in other parts of my life, etc. It was a warm, sunny day, which prevented me from getting too depressed.
I've been battling stomach problems today, and they got worse as the day progressed. We left Doug and Linda's around 6:30 or so, and I didn't have enough energy to go grocery shopping tonight, which I'd planned to do. So we went to a local restaurant, and all of a sudden it just hit me -- my body felt as if it was truly about to collapse. My skin and muscles hurt, I have a headache, it feels as if I've been hit by chains, or worse. All I want to do is crawl into bed and not come out for three days.
I'm going to watch "Mad Men," then go to sleep and drag myself down to Salem tomorrow, since I was out two days last week, but if this persists then I'm taking Tuesday off. It's the weirdest feeling, like I felt right after Drew got back from Columbia and I got a cold, a food allergy, muscle aches, etc. -- as if my body had finally given itself permission to fall apart.
Trouble is, I haven't given it permission quite yet.
***
"I love you," I told Rachel over dinner tonight.
"I love you too," she replied, "except when you're sad."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I don't like it when you're sad," she answered.
She so wants to take care of me, and I need to tell her that I'm the one who should be taking care of her, because that's what mommies do, but it doesn't seem to be getting through.
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