Fear the Crab

I think my dad starts his radiation therapy sometime in mid-August.  As far as I’m concerned, that’s the best time to begin.  I should be done with my high-priority project at The Office at the end of August, when the Fall semester starts; actually, I’m supposed to be done, no ifs ands or buts.  Or else it’s my butt.  There’s not a lot of room for delays when the Chancellor wants this thing up and running.

Anyway.  The reason I figure it’s a good time is because conceivably, the first couple of weeks of therapy are the easiest for my dad, and he won’t need much help.  After that he might start seeing the side-effects, notably the exhaustion.  If I’m done with my project by then, I should have enough free time to run whatever errands he needs, or take him to the hospital.

I’ve been accumulating some extra hours, too, so I will see if I can turn those in for leaving early on other days.  I’d rather have the ability to take off from work than earn a bit more money from overtime.

Hopefully I will not be put on any further time-sensitive projects so soon after this recent one.  I’m sure if I mention the situation to my boss and boss-boss, they can allocate “resources” to accomodate (read, us workers).

* * *

I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, lately.  Can’t seem to relax in bed, can’t seem to get comfortable.  Sometimes if I focus on them, I discover that parts of my body, particularly my neck and jaw, are very tense and it takes some effort to try and release that tension.  It seems oxymoronic, in a way, that I have to physically and mentally force my body to relax.

Typically I’ll retire at 2100 hours, but I won’t actually fall asleep until 2200.  Then I’ll wake up around 0100 or 0200, shift a bit, wake up at 0300/0400, and fall back asleep until my alarm hits.  At 0500.

Last night I didn’t sleep until 2300, because some fool up the street had their outside-dryer running.  Nothing ruins rest like the sound of metal buttons clack-clacking away in the inner drum of a humming machine.