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Friday, October 28, 2011

Dear Diary

Editorial Note:

This is a rant that I wrote while under the influence of a virus which, made me extremely tired and not exactly coherent.  It may not make any sense...you have been warned.

It started last night after I ate the most delicious salad that my mom made for me...this queasy feeling in my tummy.  I knew something was really wrong when I couldn't finish my glass of wine.  Pouring wine down the drain is a sin in my house.  I had to kick Red out of my room (he was on a talking rant)...I wasn't in the mood.  I tell him I'm tired...I want to go to bed.   I can not finish playing words with friends...I am too overcome by sleepiness.  Lights out...

I wake up kind of disoriented and more achy than usual.  It dawns on me...I have a meeting this morning at 8:30. Crap!  Well, actually it's kind of good that I don't have to rush Red out the door for the bitchy bus driver he's decided that he doesn't like.  He's not the first person to tell me this woman is rude.  What she is doing driving a special education bus is beyond me.  Anywhoo...though I'm feeling like crap, I have put my face on and soldier on to do my mommy duties.

This meeting is a brief ARD/IEP meeting at Red's school.  He's only been there 3 weeks and they already want to tweak his goals based on the Red that we are seeing in this new environment.  I really hate to count my chickens...but this is the best I've seen him in years!!!  The meeting goes well.  I meet more of his team members.  I am duly impressed with his Social Skills teacher.  He's a guy...around 32 years-old and he really seems to know his stuff.  He asked me to e-mail him if there is anything I want him to work on with Red pertaining to social skills at home.  Wow! Absolutely incredible!

I leave the meeting...go grab Subway for Red's lunch and drop it back off to the school.  Bad mommy was feeling too crappy to go to the grocery store last night.  Honestly...I don't feel like going today either.  I come home and have no incentive or energy to write a damn thing.  Instead I take a nap...that is until it's time to take my mom to her hair appointment, the bank and the wine store.  It's payday for  seniors today.  Time to buy that wine supply!

As I'm pulling in the driveway, my cell rings.  It's the high-school.  I don't panic...exactly.  It's Red sounding peppier than he did when I left him this morning.  "Mom, can you take me to get a haircut.  My hair is way too long."
"Sorry son.  I'm not feeling well."
"What do you mean? What's wrong with you?"
"My stomach is kind of upset."
"You don't sOUNd sick."
"Well...I am."
I know this conversation isn't over by a long shot.

I end up taking them for haircuts, to get dinner and then drop Blue at the library, while I run to the grocery store.  There must be lunch supplies for the following day.  As I'm walking through the grocery store...it hits me.  I am sick.  The more I move, the more my stomach churns and my head feels lighter. What the heck am I doing walking around the grocery store?

There are so many details that I take care of on a daily basis.  I am the personal assistant of 4 people, running all of the details of their lives.  I haven't been sick in so long, I think I've forgotten how to
completely stop and take care of myself.  I mean who's going to take care of the details if I don't.  I have spoiled them all.

I definitely should have read the employee manual before I took this job.