Ugh. I suddenly feel convinced that I’m not getting any traction. I sleep late. A generous friend drops by a Nora Roberts book, “Us” magazine, and Good ‘N Plenty. Awesome! I talk to another sister. Beloved suggests a short outing, onto which I promptly add two more overdue errands we can run. This is the…fifth? sixth? bad idea I’ve had. I snap at him. He snaps back, wounding me mortally! He takes me home. I fester. We argue. I realize I am mad. We make up. I sleep, hard, for several hours, and wake up feeling much better, much more like myself. I apologize again, but Beloved—being Beloved—says there’s nothing to apologize for. That night, I decide to skip my meds.
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