Sunday, November 19, 2006

I'm Wiped Out, Man

Last night I dreamed about work (gift wrapping, complicated returns, impossible-to-locate books, dozens of customers who aren't interested in purchasing a children's book to donate to the St. Paul Public Libraries today) so vividly that when a hungry cat woke me at 6:30 A.M., I was surprised to discover I'd actually been sleeping.

And all day, despite a big morning cup of English breakfast tea, I've felt deliriously tired. Tired in a way that makes my eyes and throat sting, makes the words of sentences I've spoken hundreds of times tumble over each other on my tongue and pop out of my mouth in nonsensical order. I drove home from work in a daze, fantasizing about naps I can't indulge in. I'll be back at work in less than four hours for a late-night staff meeting, and in the meantime there are litter boxes to clean, beds to make, dinners to eat, dishes to wash, and curriculum vitae to write. And more tea to be made.

I think I'm on the verge of a cold.


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