I made camp on the couch and turned on Oxygen. And, eventually, managed to focus on some woman killing her awful husband long enough to let my mind disengage—and sleep.
* * * *
Thankfully, I didn’t have any deadlines on Monday, or I’d have been screwed. What I did have was a short list of texts I hadn’t replied to and a long list of emails. That was something I could accomplish, at least, so I turned up the loud music to drown out Anxiety Brain and got to it. Sometimes I just need a win, to finish something on my to-do list, to get some momentum going.
It worked, and I managed to salvage some of the morning. But by the afternoon, all I could think was that Maeve was working, and when she worked weekday evenings, she always took her breaks at four P.M.
I should talk to her. I should go
