Today the man that I love got up and started laundry (which may have all come off of my bathroom floor ) and made me a cup of coffee when I managed to stumble out of bed hours later. He also made blueberry muffins still more hours later when I could actually be classified as awake and not just out of bed.

He's nice.

Perhaps yesterday's 15 hour shift, spent shoving around a rolling cart with a bum wheel piled up with a dialysis machine, supplies, and a water treatment system, fueled by Diet Coke and peanut butter crackers, may begin to explain this wiped out feeling that has kept me in bed most of the day.

( Please don't mind that run-on sentence or the thousand commas is contains. Thanks )

And now am washing down a bowl of vegetable soup with a double shot mug of emergen-c and thinking about wrapping packages since my sweet family will be here next weekend for a Texas-style early Christmas jam.

Plaid paper, a three-pack of Scotch tape, and bad Saturday night network television with my name all over them.

If I can manage to stay out of bed.