Is It Really Friday??

Night slipped into day as I tried to clear up the aftermath of the maelstrom that was this week. It's nearly 9 o'clock and I just finished doing my laundry. May was parking in my spot as per usual and we had a brief conversation over the balcony, arranging to meet for lunch. I've been clearing up the apartment and trying to sort the mounds of paper and various accumulated objects before the cleaning ladies come sometime this afternoon. My mother's things in her car and the clothes she was wearing the night of the accident have been strewn all over the floor as I combed it all to look for keys and pieces of paper that are meaningful to her life.

I think Marcia thinks I'm a bit crazy as I always try to tidy up before she gets here. She figures that's her job, but because my apartment is so small, a few pieces of paper makes a big difference when you have to go around it...

After the all-night cleanup, I'm feeling more organized than I have been in a while due to a serious lack of time. Sleep has been the sacrificial lamb at the altar of sanity since I can't seem to make time in other areas. I think people are worried about me. One colleague at the office mentioned they sent me something yesterday, but she didn't say what it was. I'm a bit worried about myself. I feel tense while driving, not just because I've been in a number of accidents -- a couple of them serious -- and walked away while other people were injured, but because I keeping thinking my mind isn't always on the road or other drivers. Or, as in the case the other night, I'm just plain wiped out and shouldn't be driving. Normally I would just take the Skytrain, but I have stuff with me, and the hospital isn't that close to the Skytrain station.

While I was at the hospital last night, I told my mother that I couldn't get a key for her apartment because the building manager refuses to even accept a signed note! She wants to hear my mother's voice to be sure... ICBC accepted my birth certificate, so why shouldn't she?? Anyway, that plus some other things yesterday have been an exercise in frustration -- hell, a total workout -- but I was determined to get a key. So, while the nurses were out of the room, I whipped out the contraband -- my mobile phone -- and phoned my mother's building manager, then put my mother on the phone. It's a good thing the other patients in the room were either not paying attention or just didn't care. The building manager finally conceded to cutting me some keys, which I will pick up on Saturday.... FINALLY! One small victory...