I don’t know if there’s a full moon or what. All I know is, what a weird weekend–and it’s only half over. First a daughter-inlaw, who didn’t know she was pregnant, had a miscarriage. This neccesitated my babysitting my granddaughter while she was at the hospital all night. I ended up with 4 hours of sleep, and feel hungover today. She’s doing just fine, and I was glad to be here when needed. But when sleep deprived everything has such a surreal feel about it.
A son severely cut the tip of his finger at work, and I received news of a death in the family. No one I’m close to, but someone I’ve always been fond of. Death is always hard for me, period.
What else? Well, I finally had my mane of hair whacked off, and I’m not altogether pleased with the results. That’s not unusual in itself; my hair is so thick it’s hard to get a good haircut. But it does add significantly to the weekend’s weirdness.
It occurs to me that, as odd as everything’s been, at least none of it has been DID related. That’s a nice break. Let me bewail normal woes for a change! I guess I really need to be able to do that once in a while.
(Sometimes it rains cats and dogs . . .)