Pittering

Good morning, P.M.!   I'm tired.  I'm tired of waking up at 4am almost every day after waking up at least three times during the night to oblige my full bladder and/or angry bowels.  It's like house training a puppy who doesn't have circadian rhythms.

My renowned GI, who supposedly got back into town last week, did not manage to communicate with me.  I'm about ready to give up on solving the mystery -- which is to say, the Diet and Doctor Experiment -- and just accept that I have a new pace with a heightened baseline level of pain.  P.M. and The Compulsion, however, who are rapt and scrupulous scientists, are not pleased with this option.  They prefer to encourage this moribund progression wherein I slowly lose sight of my sanity in the face of being overwhelmed with both task and absence of physical momentum to achieve said task, while continuing to conduct the Diet and Doctor Experiment.  

November is a horrendously packed month, and has the potential to be the greatest I've seen in quite some time.  It does require, however, that I be -- to a degree convincing to my boss, coworkers and family -- mentally and physically functional.  I'm so tired.  Let's go read some journal articles and finish those graduate school applications...