I went to help my boyfriend pack, but my body felt like lead and my eyelids stayed closed. I crawled into bed instead, listening to him shuffle through clothes, open wardrobe doors, shut them again. I was sinking into the mattress. It was distressing. I kept making dinosaur hands above the comforter and twisting my head against the pillow but I was a beached turtle on my back, stuck in the sand. I lay like that for a while. I opened my eyes. I started making jazz hands to a silent symphony. The panic subsided. The beach was nice, the sun was out, my exposed belly was warm and full. I thought to myself, This isn't so bad. This could be a good life.
He carried my lazy ass back into the living room, and we finished the 2nd season of Weeds.
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