The Weather Changes, Charlie Goes About His Business
Internal Clocks Trump Numbers on the Wall

It was Mischief Night after all

Yes, it is Halloween. No, Charlie is not going trick-or-treating or putting on a costume, having lost his inclination to do those at least seven years ago. Yes, he did get on the bus with an extra-heavy bookbag as I'd put some See's Candy for his teachers and therapists in it.

I was writing names on each little box of candy at 1am last night (Charlie's sleeping 'schedule' for the past three nights has been sleeping/lying in bed awake from 9pm - around midnight, getting up in a consternated and hyper mode, going back to bed at 2 or 3.30am and maybe going back to sleep) and couldn't think of the name of Charlie's music teacher.

Which is bad because Charlie's had the same teacher for all the years he's been at his school.

(Though Charlie only has music every other week now instead of every week, courtesy of sequestration.)

Jim didn't remember either. I went into the kitchen and asked Charlie, who was listening to his iPad.

'Kevin,' said Charlie.

Obviously I should have just asked him first.


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