After a week I spent snoozing, I seem to have sorted out the adjustment to the new ADHD drug.
The side-effects warning mentions fatigue and/or sleepiness, along with the usual group of maladies that can accompany any drug. Somehow I underestimated the force of the terms. I thought they meant "Gee, I'm tired; I'm going to bed early" when what they actually meant was that I'd be sleeping 12 hours every night; napping 5 or 6 hours during the day; and explaining to the good dog that we weren't going for a long walk because I couldn't keep my eyes open.
Essentials got taken care of, but everything else, however important or urgent, was set aside for a livelier day -- which has at last arrived. I'm digging my way out of the behindedness; and trusting that more effective days lie ahead.
Maybe not so much this week, though. A lot of hard things happened during this week some years back, and every year I learn anew that grief is bigger than the self; that it is intimately connected to the seasons, the days, and the hours; and that to be a leaf floating down the river of remembrance is to be fully alive and present to beauty and mystery. It's nice to be awake for it.