Sleeping like a baby. And a Christmas present.

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My sleep is wonderful, actually, lately.  At between seven and nine hours, usually, it has become rather regular.  Waking time is extending an average of two to four hours more than what would allow a 24 hour day.  So my days are creeping ahead between two and four hours ahead, give or take.  All things are slightly subject to being extra tired or alert or sleeping longer or less.  While far from perfect, being on some sort of track is a lot better than the chaotic sleep cycles I am, I think, emerging from.  It means that the next time days pop around into my waking life, grabbing onto a day schedule before I can slide on through again has a decent chance of happening.  The last time I saw days and tried to grab them it was akin to grabbing greased monkey bars.  No amount of grip strength allowed purchase.  A half dozen grabs was nothing but a idealistic mental hand-eye coordination game on the order of catching flies with chopsticks.  How Sassy does it I haven't quite figured out.

I am having to watch my medicines much more closely.  I almost missed them the other day.  That is a bad thing.  It can really throw things, in this delicate stage of recovery and medicine acclimation.  I got right back on them, only having to take night meds with day meds, which usually is fine (if the doctors might have conniptions about such).  Rightly or wrongly it keeps me dosed and doesn't give me any physical or sleep/wake hiccups.  Sometimes it is as good as I can do.  And missing a dose altogether is much more brutal, on my system, in the end, anyway.  Just one dose missed can, if it doesn't always, cause a huge problem.

Oh, the gift!  My drive and walks have been cleared!  No writing in the snow, so I'm thinking Santa snuck in.  Possibly with elves.  No sleigh marks, but he can be tricky that way.  No scat, so I'm thinking the reindeer and sled might have stayed home, ready for the big night.  He certainly can be tricky.  I think, while letting Sam out, I may have heard a "Ho, ho, ho!", either in his stealthy escape or he froze it in the breeze for when I opened the door?  Ho, ho, ho!  Back at you.  :)