Stick your heart inside of my chest, keep it warm here while we rest
I'm not entirely sure which cause to blame for my extreme fatigue today. One option is the fact that in the last 48 hours the only solid food to make its way into my belly has been a bagel and some crackers. Another likely option is my decided lack of sleep last night. Any combination of those two to varying degrees is enough to make me cranky. Today, however I was outright drained, and I'm pointing my nimble finger at complete emotional exhaustion.
I watch a lot of crime drama-- you know, Law and Order, NCIS, Without A Trace-- and so my Worst Case Scenario trigger is a bit sensitive. To be fair to Mass Media, I've always been a little bit panicky, if only quietly and privately. It's not unusual for me to convince myself that the noise in the kitchen is a knife-wielding maniac, or think that because my dad hadn't emerged from his bedroom an hour past his usual wake-up time that he must be dead.
99% of the time good ol' Left Brain steps in rather quickly and rationalizes the situation, and 100% of the time (thus far) LB's instinct has been accurate ("calm down, it's only the dishwasher/a sleep-in morning, stupid!"). However, a lack of contact combined with the phrase "He decided to walk back around 3am, and that's the last time anyone's seen or heard from him" effectively silenced LB and the irrational panic of the heart took the wheel.
Things eventually worked themselves out, and I'm feeling a bit silly about the whole thing. If anything good came out of the situation, it really solidified any lingering doubts I might have had regarding emotional attachment. It also taught me to wait for vocal confirmation before I embark on a 30 mile trek.
I suppose it also goes to show that if I want to continue to function in Life, emotions better back the hell off. They're simply exhausting.