Vacation week! Up late.
10PM 95/no IOB. I feel low. Sip juice (6g CHO).
10:30 I feel lower. 87. Whoa. Finish juice box (9g CHO).
11PM 122. Bigfoot think that seem OK. Think probably go higher, bc entire juice box + no IOB.
12AM 125. That nice. Not skyrocket even though so much juice. Think OK sleep.
1:30AM Wake up. Bigfoot feel something amiss. Think “you crazy,” try sleep. Then think how dumb feel tomorrow if child die because ignore bad feeling. Then realize dumb plus sad. Get up. Foot braille no find slippers. Careful: Lego.
1:31AM 258. Pffffffffft. Correction. That some long-acting juice. That some mo-fo-slow-release black bean/tortilla/apple/chocolate Santa carbs.
2:00AM Really too soon re-check but maybe if heading down maybe maybe OK sleep. 317. Caramba! Correction.
2:30AM Surely something will be happening by now. 279. Crap. I should probably change the site, but if it were a bad site, the number would be even higher and I really don’t want to wake him up and have a whole conversation because then I’ll really never, ever, for my entire life, get back to sleep. Correction = zero point zero zero bc. IOB.
Before know, it 4:30AM 199. Good enough for Bigfoot. Wait. Maybe too fast drop? Maybe should check again? Maybe already checking too much. Maybe more important sleep. Yes. Sleep. Try sleep.
Try calm brain down, fall back sleep by count blessings—Bigfoot basically living Precious Moments figurine—but unable get past “I’m grateful he’s alive.” Seriously? Bigfoot scold self. That’s it? Remember three other mildly snoring, warm, beloved persons (well, 2 persons, 1 dog) under roof. Why not count more blessings? Can’t. Brain can’t get past The Blessing: alive. Alive, alive, alive.
After Alive, brain switch directly into badnesses: “you’re going to forget to mail the thank you notes” and “you should only eat soup for a month” and “just because your mammogram was OK last week, doesn’t mean you don’t have cancer now” and “you suck! You can’t even count your blessings right!” Try again.
Alive. Then “we missed trash night” and “everything is a mess!” and “you wear that sweater every day” and “this pillow smells funny” and “no one will want to visit you when you’re elderly because you’re going to have so many crazy whiskers!” Flip pillow. Different smells funny. Rrrrrgh!
Then today read A Night in the Life. Feel normal. Feel like ahhhhh. Feel same happy as 1989 when find out use same lie-weight on college application as BFF. (Very realistic @135.) Finally, finally monkey-gerbil stop racing squeaky wheel in brain.