I've never been a big fan of going to sleep. Once I'm asleep, I adore it but I hate arriving at the moment where my brain says "Wow I really should go to bed now." I'm having a hard time waking up today. I've been woken up various times today- by M at 8 in the morning, what may or may not be an imagined ring of my doorbell close to 11, and the latest was the combination of the phone ringing and the clock reading 12:something. Some mornings, I wake up far easier than others. Today the fog is clinging to me and lingering a bit longer than usual. So I set some coffee to brew and went and made my bed and picked up my hair with a bannana clip and when I started picking my dry lips, I stopped and covered them with some Aveda chapstick. And then I wound my way here with my coffee and I'm typing. I should wake M up but I'm not ready to. I think I dreamed that he escaped his crib and made chaos in his room.
It's Wednesday. Sure doesn't feel like a Wednesday. It feels like a Sunday that's been misplaced and misunderstood and everyone failed to realize it's Sunday.
On Monday night, O reached out to me and we went out and talked and talked and talked for three hours. He is devastated. He's convinced he's lost his wife, the love of his life. He feels like everything is going horribly wrong. Poor guy. It's like he suddenly snapped into awareness and found the whole world crumbling around him, the pieces swaying precariously over his foggy mind. As for K, she's not so much as devastated but completely confused and lost. She is clueless as to what to do. Just as O has stepped out of his cocoon, it's as if she is beginning to rapidly, tightly, weave her own. And as for us, their friends, we all feel as if Mom and Dad just came to us and said, "Kids, we're getting a divorce." We're looking to each other helplessly wondering what we can do to save it. We're the twins in Parent Trap (I think that's the movie). And yet, we actually realize we can't do anything but watch and discuss it quietly amongst ourselves.