It's four in the morning and I'm reading about defibrillators. "Defibrillation is a treatment for life-threatening cardiac dysrhythmias." She's downstairs with her phone off—been asleep for hours, I'm sure. A break from the glowing screen to the admirable consistency of her flawed handwriting in a Valentine card on my nightstand calms me.
Now I'm reading about circadian rhythms. "A circadian rhythm is a roughly 24 hour cycle in the physiological processes of living beings." Before I even wake up, she'll have ridden to work, showered, readied herself, smiling with the anticipation of helping the world move forward a bit.
I search "siw," expecting pictures of Self-Inflicted Wounds. It surprises me to see the abbreviation now stands for Strong Independent Woman, so I search "mixing diphenhydramine alcohol."
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