I spent most of yesterday alone, at least physically. Tom was at work, and I was in the house; and though I went for walks and smiled at people, and though I dealt with yet another horribly expensive car problem, and though I was texting/Google Doc'ing all day on a collaborative obituary, and though my sons and various friends texted and called, I had more solitude than I've had for a week. For the first time in seven days, T and I spent our evening alone--no long talky meals, no bonfire musings: just the two of us, awkwardly exhausted on our own couch, trying to play cards, trying not to get too upset about the bill for the car repair, trying to parse confusing bus schedules, trying to eat dinner, trying to fall asleep as soon as possible.

I won't say that I slept well last night, but I slept better than I have been sleeping. I still jolted awake at  2 a.m., my heart pounding over the horrors of the nation, but eventually I was able to soothe myself back to sleep and stay that way until the alarm went off at 5. So all in all, it was not the worst day--not the best, not close to the best, but nobody can expect the best right now.

I'll be teaching all weekend, meaning that today is my day off, such as it is. I won't do paying work, but I'll get the housework done and do the grocery shopping. I'll get onto my mat, and I'll rake some leaves. One thing I haven't been able to do is read--you know life is bad when that happens to me because normally I read like I breathe. So I'm hoping today to find a way to fall back into the necessary patterns of my mind. Little steps, little comforts. Hell yawns before us but we still have our work and our loves. I can't let myself lose them.