Pushing it.

.
.
Maybe a little too hard. I do that when I can. A good dinner, more dishes done on balance, and a shove toward a regular day to night schedule. I am twitching, mind you. Staying up way later than I wanted for the second day in a row has left me a bit out of it. But that is what has to be done. No pain no sleep no gain. Ouch, and I mean that.

Tomorrow I do hope to finish the dishes, do a few loads of laundry, and sweep a bit. Nothing much... Just more. Friday is my drive to SLC. A thing I never really look forward to doing. Something I want to do, though, and need to do, probably. My mother called. One of her dear friends, someone who visited every day, died. It is being called a massive heart attach, though she has other suspicions... if natural as well. When you are poor, they just guess and bury you. Unless you live near a "learning college", in which case they process you like a beef carcass. I, from knowing him, am sure that being ignored was the better part of things. I worry about her when certain people die. I will, as I promised her, pray for his soul. But I will pray for her too. As people age, they lose more and more. Old hurts come back. The ghosts can become all they know. The world becomes smaller. So, I pray.

Have a good night. Sleep well and all that jazz. I know I will sleep like a dead man.