Because I’m terribly behind in this “blog the alphabet in April” challenge.
But I will finish out the alphabet no matter what. I’ll be late, sure, but I will finish.
T could stand for tuckered out. Because that’s what I was when I came home from the Pikes Peak Writers Conference. After helping with some of the clean up and collecting Things 1 and 2 from the bookstore (where they volunteered all weekend), I drove home in a daze.
When we pulled into the driveway, I asked the Things if the neighbors had moved out, because their many cars weren’t filling their driveway and the street. “No, Mom. They just aren’t home right now.” Oh.
Apparently Thing 2 showed me her Youth Symphony portrait. I have no memory of seeing it. I asked her today why she hadn’t gotten one, and she and her father exchanged on of those looks. “She showed it to you on Sunday.” Oh.
As I normally do when I come home from a few days away, I made a cup of tea. You can’t have a really proper cup of tea if you aren’t in your own home with your own mugs and your own accoutrements. This despite the fact I had taken a box of PG Tips along to the conference to share in the Green Room.
While the water was boiling for tea, I shucked off the skirt, sweater and nice shoes and fumbled into my pajamas. It was approximately 4 p.m., and I’m certain if anyone had asked me anything more difficult than “Are you still breathing” I would have cried.
Tea drunk, aching feet propped up, I watched the telly. I think. I dozed off a lot until the Chinese food arrived for dinner. Like magic. Somewhere in there I drank a beer.
At 8 p.m., my husband woke me up from my drooling stupor on the couch and told me to go to bed. Normally I would have a witty retort of some sort, but I just mumbled “Okay” and stumbled up the stairs. Where I crashed onto the bed and slept without moving until 6:30 the next morning.
Monday was when I noticed that I couldn’t feel one of my toes. My feet still ached from wearing nice shoes all weekend, and I don’t even wear the really high heels. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Maybe I was coming down with a cold? I couldn’t get warm, but other than that, I had no symptoms.
Then the word came down from the eye doctor’s office. The new glasses were in, for me and the Things. I pulled on clothes, drove to the office, got all the glasses properly fitted and drove home. I promptly put my pajamas back on, wrapped up in a blankie and went back to the couch.
About 3:30 that afternoon I heard a very tiny “click,” and my brain came back online. Synapses reconnected and started firing again. I started reading email. I managed to procure dinner. (Yes, it was just pizza, but that’s a step up from cereal, isn’t it?)
Now we’re on Friday, and life is almost back to normal. I’m polishing my manuscript to send it to the agent who requested it. I finally emptied my luggage for the weekend and put away the suitcases. I recharged my laptop and my cell phone. I’ve made online forays back into the world.
I still can’t feel that toe, though.