Supposed to reach 104 today. Jeff and I decided we'll have to move to Portland, ME. North Carolina is turning into south Florida. I hate Florida.

So. What's up? My brain feels all leaky, just like my heart and soul. Leaky. I cry all the damned time. I knew this was coming, but it doesn't make it feel less real. Hormonal whiplash.

I finally got out of the house on Wednesday. I've been feeling cooped up. I can't even go outside on account of the fires of hell. So we went to the bookstore and I picked out the following: Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence (I love her and I think this is the only one I haven't read and it only cost $2), The Curious Incident of the Dog and something else (can't remember, exactly), Gilead, and Case Histories.

I'm tired.

Jeff's at the airport with Ossie picking up his parents. I am not looking forward to the week ahead. They're really nice. But I'm all weepy and post-partum and I definitely don't feel like dealing with Jeff's mom. Do do do! Ugh. And Jeff kind of disappears when his folks show up--assumes that Ossie is taken care of by others, etc. I just can't deal. I think I'll hole up in the bedroom with my netflix and the busy bee family can just figure it out together.

I sound like such a jerk. Well, I pretty much am a total jerk. I still have to plan my online class and set up Jeff's syllabuses and do some other administrative things.

Lame entry. I guess I'm just blue. Can't wait for everything to unwobble.