Saturday night didn't work out so well for me. I went to bed with job related woes on my mind, and around 3:30 in the morning my brain said, "That's it for sleep this time. You are done."
Ick.
I stayed up talking to friends on Twitter, watching Big Hero 6 for like the 4th time in 3 days, and generally just obsessing in fine Samsara style in the dark.
Missy had to work too, and had slept in the other room, leaving Kate and I to share the bed in ours. She came in around 5:30 to find me awake, and begged me to try to get back to sleep.
I tried, I really did.
I crept downstairs, where Missy cuddled and reassured me before she had to go.
When Kate got up, she saw what a sleep deprived mess I was and took care of me. We spent a day of quiet, quality time together that made me feel much better.
But I was still a spoonless, cranky mess around lunch time. Her partner Ollie was also down here visiting our magnificent mutual friend Tasha. They wanted to meet up for lunch, but I said I wanted to stay home, because I felt like a Cranky McCrabbypants.
Kate wouldn't hear of it, and convinced me that it would be good for me. She said she was buying and to just get ready to go, because I basically had no choice in the matter.
I caved.
I'm glad I did. It was good to get out of the house, good to spend time with friends, good to eat two-flavor Phoenix shrimp (because, delicious), and good to let myself let go and be taken care of by other people.
I can't remember if it was Kate, Tasha, or Ollie who at one point pointed out to me that I can kind of suck at that. I do a lot of introspection (hence this blog), and talk a lot of talk about mindfulness and self-actualization, but we're not islands. People are social animals.
Later in the day Ollie and I had a long talk about that. It reminded me of a great book I love, and which I recommended to her, Spider Robinson's Callahan's Cross-Time Saloon.
That book is the source of Callahan's Law:
"Shared pain is lessened; shared joy, increased—thus do we refute entropy."
Thanks for the reminder.