Ok, later, 7:12PM, although for the hour seems much later than 7PM, truth be told. M and I just returned from Alterra’s in Grafton, and whenever we get home after going out the hour seems late. I’m not accustomed to leaving home after dark, I guess.

So today turned out ok. I fell back asleep around 4AM and slept until 7, then laid in bed and stared at the walls until M came in to remind me I was taking S to basketball at 9:15. So I was in bed for twelve of fourteen hours. Yes, that’s healthy, sure. I showered and gulped some coffee before hustling S over to the gym at the elementary school where I worked four years as a reading specialist. Turns out his game didn’t start until 9:30, so we shot baskets until a critical mass of small children sent me into the corner to finish 86’d. Once done I still had thirty minutes to kill so I told S I was slipping out and got some high quality coffee at Smith Bros. A quick ride back and I stood in the gym doorway, talked with Amy (one of S’s friend’s mom) and watched S play. S was doing fine, and his team won, so he was in a good mood. We stopped at the library on the way home. I picked up the Ace of Cakes book and S picked up some books on dog breeds because he wants to figure out Mack and Pete’s lineage.

I hit the gym mid-afternoon for 600 calories on the hellspawn crossramp. I love kicking that machine’s ass. Later I wrote an End of the Affair review and played Facebook Scrabble until leaving for Alterra’s. I had an espresso, but I’m still tired, so whatever, coffee loses tonight. I might hit the bedroom with Crash (the book, not the movie) in a few minutes.

So this was a tough week, really. My energy level is way down. What’s wrong with me? I sometimes think I don’t know how to pace myself, or that the cumulative effect of forty years of defensiveness have taken their toll, or that I have some fatigue-related disease, or I’m just a fucking wuss. Maybe some combination of the above. Maybe winter has broken through my skin. I’m teaching ok, I think, but if you put me a meeting that doesn’t have a clear purpose you’re going to have to handcuff me to the chair to keep me from bolting for the door.

More tomorrow. Good night.