Side effects may include ...

"I'm feeling anxious." I said this to Rich as we drove back from our late breakfast. It just snuck up on me sitting in the passenger seat when I realized my stomach was churning and it wasn't from the blueberry bagel I'd just had.

I have been under the weather this week and falling asleep early several nights in a row. It means I miss my bedtime pills routine so I haven't been taking my Zoloft. I can't take it in the morning because it knocks me straight out and I'll be useless for hours, so I just try to catch up the next night. But that doesn't really work with Zoloft.

So today in the van it caught up with me like a truck and ran me over. I was anxious about driving to Chesapeake because I didn't know where I was going (never mind I've lived here my entire fucking life and have multiple GPSes). I was anxious that I was going to be late to Ian's friend's birthday party (as if 2-year-olds do anything on time). I was anxious about the state of my work In box. I was anxious about work on Monday even though it was Saturday morning. I was anxious about my cell phone battery being crap since I've updated to iOS 5. I was anxious about finishing our landscaping projects this weekend before it get too cold and before our time runs out to get reimbursed by the city. I'm sure somewhere in there I was worried about national debt, how the death penalty gets enforced and how military families survive long deployments.

So I just kind of fell apart in the front room while Rich looked at me puzzled and Ian rode his tricycle in circles, refusing to put on his jacket. I yelled about how I know none of this is logical and it's all the same things that existed last week and didn't make me anxious but last week I had a steady dose of 50mg of Zoloft every night and this week I don't and my brain is not handling it well. And then I yelled about how I want to keep taking the Zoloft because when I actually take it, it does magical wonderful things that make me feel normal and whole and peaceful and there are unicorns and butterflies. But it's just one more thing to remember to take.

I considered yelling about how the man who has never in the 13 years I've known him successfully completed a 10 day course of antibiotics without having pills left over should not offer advice about taking medication consistently. I just thought that really hard in the car on the way to this birthday party.

It's just a sucky situation all around. Rich just wants to help and there's nothing he can do. But there's nothing I can do short term either. I just have to put my head down and make it through the day and take deep breaths. So after an extremely long day, I'm so grateful that it's bedtime now and I can go take my Zoloft and pass out. And tomorrow will be better.

Our elder statescat

Do you know how hard it is to take a photo of a black cat? I took 58 photos this evening with my dSLR and this is the only one that is in decent focus. God forbid she squint so that I can't focus on her eyeball.

It's a good exercise in slowing my breathing and staying still. Thankfully, Ms Kitty is getting older and willing to sit still for long periods of time as my model. I would drag out a flash, but all the hubbub would surely cause her to leave. If you ever see a wall calendar of black cats, buy it just to support the efforts those photographers have gone to for those images.

I'm worried about my cat. She's 15 and a half years old and she's getting frail. She only weighs a slight eight pounds which seems like a feather compared to our two other beefcake 14 pounder cats. Granted, she's missing a leg, so that might contribute to a few missing ounces, but overall she seems gaunt. Her fur is getting a little ratty too.

Ms Kitty has always been my cat. Only in her later years has she bothered to interact with anyone else but me. While I was pregnant I would practice putting her in one of the ring slings and carting her around the house for an hour. She would happily snuggle up in there, purring away. I suppose I should be happy she weighs so little since it's less strain on my arms and back.

We're getting to the stage of cat ownership where I worry about her, though. I want her to be in good health. I don't want the other cats to mess with her (I literally just had to push Tobias away to keep him from batting her tail).

But she seems happy. She purred the entire time I was doing our little cardboard box photo shoot. And she's currently draped across my left forearm as I type this. I just love my beautiful black cat.

Taking turns with a toddler

I went to bed when Ian did last night around 9pm. I didn't feel so hot and was already mentally planning for how I would deal with my work obligations the next day. "If I set up the server and make and outline, maybe I can get Stephanie to give my presentation for me tomorrow afternoon. Or maybe if I go to bed now, I'll have the strength to rally for 45 minutes via Webex." As I curled up under the blankets I thought, "as least if I feel this bad tomorrow I won't have to pack Ian's lunch. Rich can do that."

Fast forward a few hours to Rich coming to bed saying he didn't feel so hot. I was super asleep so I think my reaction was along the lines of "uh huh, yeahzzzzz". But at 2:30am he reiterated that he was indeed about to die. We got up and got him into the shower, hoping the hot water would help. I asked him if he wanted a giant glass of water and he said, "yeah, that sounds good."

Just then, Ian piped up from the bed, "I want water too!" Sigh. Yeah, I'll get you water too. "I wanna come!" Fine, I'll carry all 32.5 pounds of you downstairs to the kitchen at 3am for water. "I want juice." Fine. "I want Lightning McQueen cup." Fine.

By the time I carted all 32.5lb of him plus a giant glass of water plus a Lightning McQueen novelty cup of apple juice, I was definitely feeling weary. But we dug out the heating pad for Rich and he drank his water and Ian drank his juice and somehow we all managed to get back to sleep.

7am rolled around and Rich was certainly not going anywhere. So since I no longer felt at Death's door but perhaps just in Death's zip code, I dragged myself out of bed, packed Ian's diapers since Rich was too sick, dressed our son, dressed myself and ignored the state of my hair in favor of a ponytail. And I packed Ian's lunch afterall.

Since Rich still felt bad after our presentations this afternoon, he went home to sleep. So I picked up Ian after work and took him for dinner and out to play and then packed his lunch for tomorrow and set out his clothes for picture day and started his diapers in the wash (which won't be ready for the dryer until 11:30 tonight by my estimate). Ian was "good as gold" (as my mother says) the whole time, so that was a relief, but it's still tiring.

And there's still work stuff I have to do. This. This is one of the reasons I haven't been blogging lately.

I do feel bad for Rich because he is pretty sick and feels worse than I do. But there was a part of me that wanted to stomp my feet and say "No fair! I was sick first! Quit hogging all the sick!"

But I'll just go start the diapers on their second cycle and tuck my husband in on the couch before I finally get a shower to improve the situation with my hair.