Now, sheand Declan are usually in the office by seven and hard at work with the morning staff meeting and preparing for my arrival so she can have my daily briefing ready to go and my day’s schedule firmed up.
It’s not an exaggeration when I say I couldn’t do this without Case, without her dedication, without her knowing me as well as she does. She builds buffers into my day whenever possible to allowme the opportunity to try to nap on my office couch in the afternoon, not that I ever sleep deeply in the office.
Or anywhere else.
Now that Aussie isn’t living at home, I’m usually at work until seven or eight at night most nights. Those areearlynights. A late night is ten or eleven, and I manage one or two late nights a week.
Casey and Declan are usually there with me that whole time, too.I felt guilty about that until she assured me theywantto be there, and they’re both dedicated to supporting me in my role as governor.
I finally wash my face in the kitchen sink, pat it dry with a dish towel, and seat my glasses on my face. After I fix myself a mug of coffee, I lean against the counter and scan through my email on my phone. This is personal email. I’m always careful never todo official business on this phone.
Then I text Case. If I don’t, she’ll get pissed. She doesn’t care if it’s 2 a.m. or 10—she wants to know as soon as I’m vertical again after having to medicate me.
I’m awake. Heading to shower. Thank you.
Before I even make it to the stairs, I have a reply.
Alone today, or working brunch?
I pause at the bottom of the stairs and consider herquestion. I don’t need clarification, because this has become a kind of short-hand for us.
I wait until I’m upstairs in my bedroom to reply.
Working brunch, please.
She replies almost immediately with a thumbs-up emoji.
That means the clock is now ticking.
I’ve already shaved and I’m in the shower when I realize that, when I opened the fridge to get the creamer for my coffee, therewere groceries in there I did not buy and which were not in my fridge yesterday.
Breakfast fixings.
I chuckle to myself, knowing she must have purchased them last night while on her way back from her date to check on me.
Thank god she knows me so fucking well.
* * * *
At some point today I will fit in a workout. Later, though, when I can use it to drive myself to exhaustion.
Combined withthe judicious application of alcohol, it’ll help me manage a couple of hours of sleep without needing another Xanax.
Then the usual weekly cycle will begin again.
No, I’m not an alcoholic.
Yes, I realize alcoholics deny they’re alcoholics. Except I know I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t drink every night, or even most nights. I specifically limit myself so Idon’tdevelop a problem. But the niceside effect of the alcohol is I can put on a funny movie or TV show and stretch out on the couch and my mind will float away from painful subjects for a couple of hours before I drift to sleep without the screaming ringing in my ears.
That’ll return later, once the booze wears off.
Then I’ll head to bed and lie there staring at the ceiling and wondering why I didn’t stay strapped in my seatand let myself drown with Ellen’s body.
Why I sentenced myself to a lifetime of this hell.
I tried sleeping pills, and that was a nightmare.
Literally.
