Reset Forty-Two, Day Sixteen
Jul. 18th, 2022 05:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphSunday morning I woke up after only about three hours of sleep. I thought someone had knocked at my door, but nobody was there, and it's possible that I only dreamed I heard a knock, or perhaps someone next door accidentally bumped something against the wall, or maybe somebody knocked on that apartment's door. I guess I'll never know, but the end result was that I couldn't get back to sleep, and after a couple of hours of trying I gave up and called it morning.
Naturally that didn't work out too well. After a few hours of bumping into door jambs and stumbling over my own feet, I actually started feeling sleepy as well as tired, so I put the undrunk half a can of lunch beer in the refrigerator and went back to bed. To my surprise, I fell asleep almost immediately and didn't wake up for about six hours, which was about quarter to eight in the evening. Such odd sleeping hours don't make me happy, but at least I felt sort of rested. I do worry that I might be slipping into some sort of bipolar condition, but if it weren't that it would be something else, so I suppose I might as well just live with whatever it is. I won't be taking any pills for it. I've had bad luck with chemistry.
The forecast for the next two weeks is as dismal as it can be, with triple digit highs day after day, and nights hovering mostly in the high sixties and low seventies. It's a characteristic central valley summer, but a bit more intense then usual. While I can probably adjust to my own crazy, adjusting to this weather is going to be a real trial. I fully expect to be convicted.
I noticed today that my few minutes in the back yard sun each day has added up to the darkest tan I've had in decades. I hadn't even thought about it. Were I thirty years younger I might look pretty good this tanned, but at my age losing my pastiness just makes me look more ravaged. Yup, me and Clint Eastwood, California boys of summer in their ruin. It's a good thing I don't go out much anymore. I'd probably scare the hell out of kids.
Naturally that didn't work out too well. After a few hours of bumping into door jambs and stumbling over my own feet, I actually started feeling sleepy as well as tired, so I put the undrunk half a can of lunch beer in the refrigerator and went back to bed. To my surprise, I fell asleep almost immediately and didn't wake up for about six hours, which was about quarter to eight in the evening. Such odd sleeping hours don't make me happy, but at least I felt sort of rested. I do worry that I might be slipping into some sort of bipolar condition, but if it weren't that it would be something else, so I suppose I might as well just live with whatever it is. I won't be taking any pills for it. I've had bad luck with chemistry.
The forecast for the next two weeks is as dismal as it can be, with triple digit highs day after day, and nights hovering mostly in the high sixties and low seventies. It's a characteristic central valley summer, but a bit more intense then usual. While I can probably adjust to my own crazy, adjusting to this weather is going to be a real trial. I fully expect to be convicted.
I noticed today that my few minutes in the back yard sun each day has added up to the darkest tan I've had in decades. I hadn't even thought about it. Were I thirty years younger I might look pretty good this tanned, but at my age losing my pastiness just makes me look more ravaged. Yup, me and Clint Eastwood, California boys of summer in their ruin. It's a good thing I don't go out much anymore. I'd probably scare the hell out of kids.
