So we went to vote and then for a few last cocktails and dinner. I overdid it, didn't ride my bike. Every time I stop taking care of myself I have to entirely relearn how to manage. I remember hearing once when I was in college about some family-member of a friend, and this family-member was severely handicapped: "What they're doing with her now is starting over, they're teaching her to crawl and then they'll re-teach her to walk. How to move, what to do with her hands. Because all of the methods she learned on her own from her family were wrong."
I keep talking, thinking about anxiety: Ten-minute tasks that take me a week. Bike rids pushed aside for paralyzing tension. It's in the family, on the paternal side, an entire race of jittery Irish, shaking hands, furrowed brows, grabbing as much pie as they can.
Off to the clinic.