The days fly by, winging their way into the past, turning youth into old age and what is a nice girl like me doing in a situation like this?

Friday I went to the VA after work; tired when I got home in the cold and dark, so much so that my shaking hands had trouble with the keys. First I dropped them, practically falling over to retrieve them, and then I couldn't seem to get the key into the lock.

What a pleasure it was to step inside, lock the door behind me, fumble my way in the dark through the hallway to the living room and fall onto the couch. I'll bet I was asleep from the moment I set foot in the door.

I woke up a couple of hours later with a curious cat perched on my chest, tickling my nose with her vibrissae, and my arm all scrunched up between hip and back of couch. She clearly thought this place most unseemly for sleeping, so I went upstairs, washed up, and crawled into bed, for real this time.

Saturday was hectic. In addition to visiting Norm, there were all the usual errands and home maintenance, and in the afternoon/evening a fund-raising event for Emerson UUC, for which I had made major commitments before all this medical stuff came down. It was fun, and very successful, but by the time cleanup was done, so was I.

I must say that long, stressful, demanding days certainly make for solid sleep. Once again, I vaguely remember coming home, feeding the cats, washing up and falling into bed (managed to bypass the couch, which is incredibly uncomfortable on the back).

Here it is, Sunday morning, Emerson again (sexton duties and then Sunday service). Lunch afterward, then back to the VA for the uxorial visit (give me a break folks--this is probably the one and only time I'll ever have a chance to use that word).

See ya on the flip side.