• So. Freaking. Tired. Unbelievably tired. Like, I really can’t “do” anything lately anymore. I’ve been playing Scrabulous, and vaguely staring at the TV, and napping. I keep catching myself just staring off into space, completely lost.
  • It’s partly the stress, and partly the third trimester, and partly that the side effects for (at least) one of my medications include “excessive tiredness.”
  • Needless to say, absolutely no dissertating is getting done right now.
  • No money is being made, either, because I keep cancelling my academic whore project shifts.
  • I’m hoping for good news at the doctor tomorrow, and maybe coming off the pills that are making me want to sleep 27 hours a day.
  • My dad is in town. Did I mention that? He’s been here for about a week, but he’s staying with my uncle (my dad’s half-brother) about an hour away. I had lunch with him last week, and he’s coming over here tonight to stay over and to go out to dinner with us. My relationship with my dad has *significantly* improved over the past five years or so (well, for me to be speaking to him at all it would have had to), but it’s still kind of weird.
  • Mostly, I have nothing to say to him. It doesn’t help that my dad is a) in his mid-80s*, b) very, very hard of hearing, c) not at all inclined to wear his hearing aids, and d) not big on the listening, overall. So talking to him is frustrating, at best. But beyond that, we just don’t have much to say. We usually have 30 second phone calls, when we talk at all–so spending hours with him in person? Grueling. I have no idea what I’ll do with him until GB gets home.
  • I guess I could nap while he’s here, and hand him the TV remote.
  • I washed the dishes and made the guestbed in anticipation of his arrival, but I think I’m done. I don’t think I can muster up the energy to take out the trash or clean the house at all. He’s just going to have to deal.
  • I’m desperately trying to muster up the energy to shower. It’s not going so well.
  • Maybe another 1/2 hour nap, then a shower?
  • Sigh. I’m hoping something here changes (for the better) soon, because I can’t take 9 more weeks of sleeping constantly and getting nothing at all done.
  • Though maybe I should enjoy that? I’m guessing that soon I’ll be getting nothing done and not sleeping at all…

*I think I’ve mentioned this here before, but no one knows how old my dad actually is. He gave a fake birth year when he immigrated to the U.S., and he’s used that fake birthdate ever since. No one–not even my mom, who was married to him for 28 years–knows his real age. (Well, I assume he does, but he’s not sharing.) I finally got him to confess (about four years ago) that he’s been lying about his age, but he won’t say by how much. But his fake age would make him 79 this year, so I figure mid-to-late-80s is a good guess.

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