The Orem library called today to say that the check I mailed them to pay the overdue fines was written to Provo library instead. In the mail today I received a note from Provo library returning the check I had mailed to them to pay overdue fines because it was the check for the Orem library.

Funny, but I thought I checked each envelope to make sure the correct check was in the correct one with the correct letter.

Nathaniel's teacher called to ask if I was coming to parent-teacher conferences. I had scheduled an organ lesson at the same time. This was the second time I had rescheduled the organ lesson. Last time I had to write an apologetic note saying I had forgotten that I was supposed to present a lesson at the workshop Steve is teaching, because it was the same time and I had already paid for it, and take it to the student's house right before Chris took me to pick up the car from the shop so I could drive myself to the workshop so he could pick up Bethany from her clarinet lesson. The first time I had to reschedule because I completely forgot to go. I wasn't going to reschedule the organ lesson three times!

I also forgot which church I was supposed to meet my own organ teacher at, so when she wasn't at the one where I was waiting, I drove quickly to the elementary school close by to borrow the Internet connection to look at my email which said the address of the correct church. Five blocks west.

I have forgotten to take Reuben to preschool, and to pick him up. I have forgotten to make a lunch for Stephen in the morning. I have forgotten to brush teeth, to change out of pajamas, to have my kids do their homework or practice, to do laundry, to read scriptures, to go grocery shopping. I forget to change out of my slippers before I drive someone somewhere. I have forgotten to feed the chickens. I have forgotten to pick Nathaniel up from school, even after looking on the calendar and reading the note I had written there.

I remember perfectly the phone number we had when I was seven years old.

Hopefully the increased thyroid prescription will give me some energy, because nothing else has. I have become a shuffler. I throw on the same sweats and hoodie I wore yesterday and the day before that, shove my feet into my slippers, and shuffle downstairs to throw bowls and milk and spoons on the table so people can inhale something before I drive them to school because they are late because I couldn't make myself get out of bed to check if they were out of bed.

By that time, I'm so exhausted I have to read a book so I'll stay awake to make sure Joe gets to school instead of "taking care of Reuben while you sleep, Mom." Books are dangerous because they are so much easier than getting out all the bills to pay, or emptying the dishwasher or putting clothes in the washing machine or getting Reuben dressed so we can go shopping, since the food in the house consists of cold cereal and tortillas that dried out because somebody ripped the bag and I didn't notice. Books are good because they help me mask my frustration with my body, mind, and energy level.

By the time I remember to feed the chickens, I have noticed that my forehead hurts, not enough to be called a headache; the pain is lurking just above my eyebrows, as though there were a cloud over my brain right there, pushing to get out. Pressure. It is hard to think.

Where did all that energy I had during the summer go? I know I felt good a couple of weeks ago. Did the wedding really wipe me out for two weeks? Or was it taking care of sick kids and trying not to catch their germs?

I decided today that I can't help at the school, because I can't even make myself get dressed to take Reuben to preschool; I've gone in pajamas three times in one week! I don't necessarily feel depressed. Just hollow.

My plan is this: go to bed as soon after 9 as people finish their homework. Drink lots of water. No skipping breakfast or lunch--eat as soon as I remember it is mealtime. Concentrate on one household chore a day. Start dinner in the morning. Rest.

I can do things if I do them slowly. Steve is glad I'm still here. I am glad I'm still here. The kids are glad I'm still here, even if I do make them practice and do homework and dishes. Even if I'm on slow-mo permanently.