My fixed income seminar is tomorrow. This fact is making me nauseous.

Now, combine that with meeting (and not caring for) Mike’s mom. Add a rousing dash of not knowing Mike’s diagnosis until 5:30pm. On top of that add my son coming up with a “100 Days of School” project at the last minute, and a late appointment.

Bleah. I’m close to puking from nerves.

As I type, Mike and his mom are putting address labels on about 500 postcards for my next seminar. My hands are shaking. I need to buy ice and forks and spoons and soda and coffee and I’ve not even looked over the overhead slides yet.

Today Mike stopped shivering uncontrollably. I joked around with him, telling him to stop milking it, while his mom sat at the table, coming up with Doom and Gloom anecdotes.

*sigh*

Being strong for him is causing me to be very, very behind at work. Which in turn is cutting into my time with Justin. It’s a vicious cycle. I got very used to working 60 hours a week in my usual, hiccup-less pattern. Now all I have are hiccups.

I have enough adrenaline to make it through til tomorrow at 2pm - after the seminar, I can’t begin to guess.

Running out,

michelle