Oh, great!

After I blog I'm going to pack for my trip to Los Angeles. My spring vacation. This trip has always felt like something of a consolation prize. I had wanted to take a spa trip -- I love those solo getaways to relax and recharge -- and had almost decided on Memphis, when my oldest friend dropped a bombshell on me. Her doctor told her she suffers from "bipolar, cyclical, clinical depression, which typically doesn't respond well to meds."

She goes through periods where she can't get out of bed. She also has physical problems, like vertigo, and has taken a ton of time off work already. This is her fifth job in 4 1/2 years she's been in California. She can't afford to lose it.

So I'm going out to be with her. To lend her moral support. She hasn't made any friends in the time she's been out there, and the cousin she moved to be with hasn't not made herself available in times of need. I want my oldest friend to know that she's not alone.

That's why I'm flying for hours and hours (which I hate) to shop and go to the movies (which I could do here). I figured I'd have fun. After all, no one makes me laugh harder than my oldest friend. It's just not what I want to be doing. But I've been trying to get my mind right.

Except yesterday my friend told me she was going to the doctor because a bad head cold has her ears all plugged up.

Oh, great!

If I end up on her living room sofa watching Me-TV all weekend, I'll scream. What a waste of stress (air travel) and money and time off that would be!

I know she can't help being sick -- whether she's congested or bipolar. But I can't help being exasperated, either.