Friday 9 Dec 2005
3:21pm

“Are you depressed?” he says to me.

I don’t know. Am I? I've hardly been outside for days (until just now, when the snow melting off the roof told me this balmy weather is not to be ignored after a week between 10 and 20 below), I’ve been sleepy and lacklustre, accomplishing little or nothing.

I lay in the bathtub, think of Mom, dip my hair back into the warm water, cry for a few moments, think of something else, the tears stop.

Last night I went to bed early with a fever and a sinus clog, and slept soundly till the fire was out and the bedroom got cold and woke me. I turned my side of the electric blanket (thanks Mom!) on and shivered while it warmed up, turned it up another notch, shivered and hugged myself, turned it up another notch, shivered and snuggled up to the warm body beside me, turned it up again, and finally one more time before I was warm enough to relax. Then do you think I could sleep? At six I went to the kitchen to eat a plain piece of bread, then was able to sleep till eight when the boys called me up for their goodbye kisses.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and checked email, then turned the computer off and went into the boys’ room, grabbing Everett’s pillow from his bed, tossing it at the foot of Emil’s, and climbing in under the covers. There I slept till two o’clock, except for half a dozen phone calls. I’d taken an Indocid at 11 and felt better when I was awakened by Scott walking into the bedroom, scaring the bejesus out of me.

“Couldn’t you make some noise?” I said, “so I know you’re coming?”