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sailorzeoDoctor Who premieres tonight on SciFi. I started watching it, but fifteen minutes in, wandered off. I'm taping the two hours of it tonight; I'll watch it for real tomorrow with Matt.
I called Ellen's mom today, got the answering machine. I tried not to leave too weird a message, just saying I hadn't seen her online since Sunday, and there was no answer on her phone. Asked if she knew if anything was going on, or if she had phone numbers for Ellen's roommates. Left my phone number and e-mail.
I hate feeling like this. I don't like not knowing. My nervous worrying has Matt worried now; I was leaving the message with Wendy just as he was getting ready to leave. He told me to call him at work if I find out anything adverse.
I should be sewing. I washed the wolfie flannel for Matt's pants, and the silky/flannelly material I bought for my new pajamas, but I just don't feel like it. I should be mixing the veggie mixture for the salad I'm taking to work tomorrow, but I don't feel like it.
My brain is even wondering, "Maybe she's not sick; maybe there's nothing wrong with her phone or her internet. Maybe she's avoiding you."
Gah. I just want to know, to stop the infernal nervous worrying. I'm going to give myself an ulcer worrying about this, or make myself throw up from nerves.
If I still lived in OH, I'd be about ready to jump in the car and drive the two and a half hours to find out what's going on. But I live 8 hours away now, and I don't have gas money, or time off from work.
I hate not knowing. I should be used to it; no one ever tells me anything anyway. But I'm not. She's my best friend, my longest friend, and I worry, especially when she's had as rough a year health-wise as she has the last year.
I called Ellen's mom today, got the answering machine. I tried not to leave too weird a message, just saying I hadn't seen her online since Sunday, and there was no answer on her phone. Asked if she knew if anything was going on, or if she had phone numbers for Ellen's roommates. Left my phone number and e-mail.
I hate feeling like this. I don't like not knowing. My nervous worrying has Matt worried now; I was leaving the message with Wendy just as he was getting ready to leave. He told me to call him at work if I find out anything adverse.
I should be sewing. I washed the wolfie flannel for Matt's pants, and the silky/flannelly material I bought for my new pajamas, but I just don't feel like it. I should be mixing the veggie mixture for the salad I'm taking to work tomorrow, but I don't feel like it.
My brain is even wondering, "Maybe she's not sick; maybe there's nothing wrong with her phone or her internet. Maybe she's avoiding you."
Gah. I just want to know, to stop the infernal nervous worrying. I'm going to give myself an ulcer worrying about this, or make myself throw up from nerves.
If I still lived in OH, I'd be about ready to jump in the car and drive the two and a half hours to find out what's going on. But I live 8 hours away now, and I don't have gas money, or time off from work.
I hate not knowing. I should be used to it; no one ever tells me anything anyway. But I'm not. She's my best friend, my longest friend, and I worry, especially when she's had as rough a year health-wise as she has the last year.
