I don't know what to do with myself.

I was getting ready to go to the gym this afternoon. I'd had a strange night of unsatisfied sleep, it took me hours and hours to finally get comfortable, I couldn't even keep my eyes closed until practically 4 am. I woke up and slept again, woke up and slept again, and I couldn't drag my body out of bed until past noon. I should have known something was very wrong.

My mother called. My Aunt Diane is in the hospital on life support. She may not make it through the night. The woman who survived multiple surgeries on her inner ear and brain, who survived breast cancer all on her own after her husband left her, the woman who is always there for my mother and who had become a fixture in our family even though she lives in Chicago, the woman who sends me three email forwards a day with pictures of kittens...she could be gone in the blink of an eye.

The man who basically is her only family and friend, her life companion, the man who had quit his job basically to take care of her in the last couple of weeks while she was suffering from what she thought were severe panic attacks, was the one who called 9-1-1 when he discovered her unresponsive in the middle of the night. Her lungs had begun to collapse and her heart stopped beating. He was DENIED to right to see her and to speak with her doctor because he's not a relative.

And now I'm sitting here in my room in sneakers and workout clothes, and I'm staring at my telephone and the clock and thinking about what I should do before class and rehearsal, what could possibly make sense to do right now. I can't go work out, I can't go to the grocery store, I can't run to the bank, I can't do anything I need to do, I'm rooted to the spot. I can't do anything that makes any sense because nothing makes sense. Nothing makes any sense.