Having Fallen Out of Step

I feel so out of it.

On the morning of July 4th, my father called to tell me that my grandfather had been taken off life support. I went to Springfield Wednesday to see him; they were supposed to have started a morphine drip, but the doctor had botched the orders so my poor grandfather spent an entire night and half of the next day in excruciating pain while his organs shut down. I got to tell him I loved him while he was still lucid, to kiss his forehead and smooth back his wild white hair, and tell him we are trying for a baby. He seemed pleased by the news when he wasn't squeezing his eyes shut and crying out in pain.

Thursday evening, he died. It was mostly a relief after seeing him suffer so tremendously.

I came home Friday afternoon and have done nothing productive since. I am a week behind on my schoolwork and disinclined to expend the effort necessary to catch up. There is a good chance I am pregnant, which would go a long way toward explaining why I've been so goddamned hungry for the past week, but I won't find out for sure until next weekend. I am very excited, but trying avoid the thought of all the homework (and housework) that lies between me and the weekend. It's after noon and I haven't logged in to the Blackboard site yet-- postponing the inevitable. All I want to do is eat turkey sandwiches and nap. "Hungry and tired" seems to be my resting state these days. Too many trains of thought are racing simultaneously through my brain; today is a day for list-making.