One of those days.

What’s worse, I had already gone to the Starbucks which is our pre-shift meeting place, to get some writing done.  I will be stuck here for hours, unable to work. I will also have to explain to my boss why I can’t work, which I hate doing. (Hopefully, it won’t look like I am crying by the time he gets here.)

I should have known this was going to happen. Last night, a perfect stranger asked with some concern why I was shaking so badly.  I had to explain that  it was more or less normal, simply a benign tremor exacerbated by medication. (I suppose I could have snarled “mind your own business,” but the man looked on the verge of calling for medical help. He was honestly trying to be caring towards a fellow human being, which I applaud.)

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