Reset Forty, Day Eight
Apr. 16th, 2022 05:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphFriday morning I think I got to sleep rather late, but I don't remember exactly when. I know I finally got up near three o'clock in the afternoon, though I'd probably been catnapping rather than sleeping for upwards of an hour before that. When I woke up I'd had my left arm extended beyond the bed and I was grabbing one of the spindles on the back of the chair I use for a night stand on that side of it. This now happens with distressing frequency. My arm and hand muscles were tensed up, as though I were clutching the last deck chair on the Titanic as I was pulled under the surface of the icy Atlantic. I have no idea why I do that, but I've been doing it as long as I've been in this apartment and had that chair by my bed. Could the chair be hypnotizing me in my sleep? Perhaps it belongs to a Wiccan cult. It is, after all, Early American.
But eventually I got out of bed and went about my day, or what was left of my day. I'm pretty sure I forgot to drink my orange juice, but I did eat a donut and have some tea. Later I sat out back for awhile, and it was not especially cold. There was even some intermittent sunshine. Birds, including the mockingbird, were singing vigorously for much of the time. As the evening wore on the clouds thickened again, and I don't recall seeing the moon. There was another sandwich for dinner, so no pots or pans or dishes to wash. Then about midnight it began to sprinkle.
For the last two hours it has been raining pretty steadily, and it is the most impressive rain we've had since December. I'm very glad to have it, though it's too little and too late to fix the drought. We might get a couple more feet of snow in the mountains out of it, but that would be only a few days worth of water at the rate the state normally consumes it through summer. Still, we're better off this year than we were in 2015. There will surely be some restrictions on use, but probably not full-on rationing.
I just finished a bowl of popcorn and glass of carrot juice as a bedtime snack. Since I've only been awake for about fourteen hours I'm not sure it really is bedtime, but I'm going anyway. I can read until I fall asleep. I've still got half a volume of Collette's stories to read. I'm glad now that I didn't read them when I was younger. One probably needs to reach a certain age to develop a capacity to appreciate the deep melancholy that underlies even her most sardonic tales. But then it's hard to stay melancholy for long at any age when you've just eaten buttered popcorn, and you're listening to the rain falling on the roof.
But eventually I got out of bed and went about my day, or what was left of my day. I'm pretty sure I forgot to drink my orange juice, but I did eat a donut and have some tea. Later I sat out back for awhile, and it was not especially cold. There was even some intermittent sunshine. Birds, including the mockingbird, were singing vigorously for much of the time. As the evening wore on the clouds thickened again, and I don't recall seeing the moon. There was another sandwich for dinner, so no pots or pans or dishes to wash. Then about midnight it began to sprinkle.
For the last two hours it has been raining pretty steadily, and it is the most impressive rain we've had since December. I'm very glad to have it, though it's too little and too late to fix the drought. We might get a couple more feet of snow in the mountains out of it, but that would be only a few days worth of water at the rate the state normally consumes it through summer. Still, we're better off this year than we were in 2015. There will surely be some restrictions on use, but probably not full-on rationing.
I just finished a bowl of popcorn and glass of carrot juice as a bedtime snack. Since I've only been awake for about fourteen hours I'm not sure it really is bedtime, but I'm going anyway. I can read until I fall asleep. I've still got half a volume of Collette's stories to read. I'm glad now that I didn't read them when I was younger. One probably needs to reach a certain age to develop a capacity to appreciate the deep melancholy that underlies even her most sardonic tales. But then it's hard to stay melancholy for long at any age when you've just eaten buttered popcorn, and you're listening to the rain falling on the roof.
