just my luck: yesterday evening, while i was reading anne’s tarot cards as compensation for her having brought me home, the phone rang. karen, my soon-to-be supervisor, in copenhagen as planned, wanted to know if i could meet for a pleasant sunday city lunch. my half-voice spoke for me. alarmed, she said, don’t push yourself, it’s not crucial. i really wanted to meet her, so we compromised: she’d call at 9:30 the next morning. if i was better we’d make a go of it. if not, we’d wait til i’m back in dc.
groaning, i returned to anne and finished the spread. we’d been drinking tea and i’d made my way through two bowls of oatmeal for strength. then i bid her adieu. being the lovely resourceful young woman she is, she rigged up curtains for me, on the assumption that my lack of sleep was less sadism and more sunlight, the which crashes through my wall of windows directly opposite my bed. one forgets that just because it’s not warm that doesn’t mean the sun ain’t shining. and at full wattage by 8 a.m., so even a cloudy sky glows like a bulb.
but though i nyquiled myself into slumber, i woke feeling possibly more miserable than before. karen called again. there was no hiding it. with promises to convene back home, we hung up. i drowned my sorrows in more nyquil and slept til 2.
now actually i feel half all-right. i’m tempted to go back to dis and watch more riget — we got through 3 episodes yesterday before i more or less collapsed. i’m not sure i should chance it. being well for barcelona is vastly more important.