Ready for bed.

.
.
But the bed is not ready for me. All good though. By the time I finish washing what is needed, getting my bed reconstructed and properly set, I will enjoy one of the most pleasant sleeps in some time. While not exactly a perfectionist when it comes to washing linens, I do better than an average bachelor. I would have to say that this winter, irregardless of the extra illness, I have been a bit lackluster. The illness merely made bad much worse. I couldn't get to the sheets and such even in twice my normal time of every few weeks. Then my normal time just became a thing of lore. Fresh bedding will be quite a pleasure.

They say pillows should not be washed. I have never really understood that. The deal is one is supposed to buy new pillows yearly. Have you priced good pillows lately? Something about dust mites, is one reason to buy new. Something about washing damaging the pillows and the dryer being worse. While, generally, there is something to dust mites, I have never had a problem with pillows being damaged. And the washer I now have has a mode for tending dust mites, killing them actually. While it is true I did not use that mode, this first round, I probably will get to that within a week if my health and function status continues to hold up. I simply wanted clean pillows before steaming them. Which means, after washing the pillows, pillow cases, and dust protectors, I will need to shower before going to bed. All that stuff from the EEG attachments is still there. The good thing about short hair is that it is easy to clean and dries quickly.

Writing for writings sake. I know. But as my mind is opening up things to occupy my mind are still limited. Cleaning my home, tending the yard, and more practical matters are using my time in such a manner that finding other means of usage is both more than I can do in combination and less of a priority. I might have to find the calculus material. I enjoy that when I am higher function. Some of the rest of it will have to be more social in nature. Getting back to Church might help with that, getting out in other ways might also be good.

I noticed as I was dressing to leave tonight that I have lost significant 'volume'. My face looks much thinner. It almost unnerved me. While not handsome in any case, not being chubby-cheeked is a strange thing, like a stranger looking back from the glass. The shirt I put on, being made of cotton and just having come out of a hot dryer, seems... huge on me. This was a shirt I could scarcely wear when I arrived, as I filled it and then some. Now it billows, a strange description for a short sleeved black shirt. I lost 35 pounds when I moved here, give or take. I have only lost another 15 pounds on the water pills. And yet I think I have lost more size to the 15 pounds than I lost to the other 35 pound weight loss. My guess is I will lose more weight and girth. Of course, the pain possibly from the weight loss is pretty severe. I feel like the meat is falling from my rib bones or something. Who knows.

On to tinkering until another couple of loads are washed and dried and I can comfortably and cleanly sleep again. Oh, yes, that will be as divine as worldly possible. Good night. Again if that's what it is.