I accompany my son to his college--for his very last class--on Tuesdays. It's on the other side of Boston, but in The Before Times, this wasn't such a bad trip. Now it's pretty nauseating.
He has to be there early, so we have to leave even earlier. This is fine, usually--I'm a morning person--but less so when I'm woken up at 2:30 AM. By my son. (On the plus side, I now know why I've been waking up relatively consistently at 2:30 AM for the past few nights.) Usually I can fall back asleep after an hour, but of course that was not so easily done when I needed to wake up at 6.
By some miracle, we were not only able to get to the train and his school on time, but I was also able to pack myself food so I wouldn't have to pay a ransom for sustenance later. I was even able to take my usual sort of long walk back and forth. Yay me.
All was well until about an hour before his class ended. Then I felt it. By the time my son and I were on the train home, we were both nodding off, and he was using me as a pillow. It was okay; it helped stabilize me so I didn't fall over.
Needless to say, we both dropped to our respective beds as soon as we got home. I got in a nap for about ninety minutes--this is the most wondrous of all of today's events, because I'm almost never able to nap--before I woke up and thought I should get some water for my headache.
I was actually able to meet my transcription goals--I goosed myself one hundred words at a time, which might be something I do when I'm a little more awake as well--but now I am ready to entertain thoughts of rest again.
I'm so grateful that he only has class once a week this semester. I'm even more grateful that he'll be going to a much closer school in the fall.
Deb in the City
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