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I know right where I am, and still I'm lost

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I know right where I am, and still I'm lost

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Tuesday was a good day up until the end. 

I worked from 8:30 am til 7:15 pm.  I had lunch at two.  After that, I went into the city for Books to Prisoners.  It was extremely good to go - the last one was my first appearance there since February.  It's been a bruiser of a year - hard to find the energy for things like BtoP.

I was conscious of having missed dinner, and I had intended to partake of the food that is usually generously offered by the household that hosts us, but it was squash soup with ginger.  I really don't like ginger in foods that aren't heavily populated with sugar, so I passed on that. 

We had a good run, longer than usual, at least for me.  I packed for a while, checking the orders, and then I unpacked and sorted boxes of books while SJ put them on the shelves.  Rachel said if I call her, she could come out and let me into the garage from which we work  to do extra sorting some time over the next two weeks.  That would be cool.

Unfortunately, though, the good run of work meant we didn't leave until 10:45, which is about an hour an a half later than usual for me. 

As it turns out, I get really disoriented after about nine hours with no food.  Actually, I knew this already from previous duh experiences, but it just slips past me sometimes that I'm depriving myself until it's too late. 

Coming north on 294, I missed the turn onto 88 to come home.  That put me in O'Hare country, no place to turn around.  I stopped at the Oasis, and I SHOULD have gotten food, but at that point I was no longer thinking properly at all.  I asked nekouken what to do, and he said to turn west on 90 and then go south on 290 to hook up with 355 and then 88 and then ahh, home.  However, I somehow missed THAT turn too... and then I got upset.  I was almost to Elgin when I figured out where I was, so I went to nekouken's place, where he gave me a pita with yummy roasted red pepper hummus, and I also had one of my cans of V8 that I keep there.

The next morning, I called in sick.  He and I went to breakfast, and then I went home and showered and, going in late, STILL managed to work more than an 8 hour day, 11:30 to 8:30.

During that day, I was still sorta disoriented from the blood sugar drop of the day before, as well as by the general Oh-holy-damn-how-can-I-possibly-do-all-this.

I'm thinking of making an emergency food pack for my car.  No V8, though.  They get to tasting weird in the can if you leave them in the car too long - there's too much variation in temperature.

The theme of life recently seems to be  that I need a keeper.  Anyone want the job?
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