Way late waking, but no surprise.

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Considering when I went to bed, and adding 9 hours to that, I set the alarm.  And I woke with the alarm, barely.  I didn't exactly have to push or shove to wake, but I didn't wake early, either.  Yesterday was long, with only a few hours of sleep to bolster it.  I can tell by my dry throat that I snored, hard.  I didn't even rise to use the bathroom through the night.

My bp was not the best, but within the range of the much better readings.  My weight is simply not coming down.  It couldn't be over-eating, but it doesn't seem to be water weight, at this point, either.  I simply don't know what that is about.  A bit of waking time, then some work in the kitchen and laundry room, in more ways than one on that latter.  I already had a bite to eat, those shoulder chops are really good, again.  Oh, I best set out more meat to thaw and arrange things for a trip to town tomorrow.  I am going to push to be up by 11:00 to noon, tomorrow.

There is no need to open the curtains, at this point, today.  We have fogged in pretty heavily.  Sometimes that is a pretty, pensive, or swirling view of nature, but today... either I am not really up to it or it isn't one of those days.  I never can tell, for sure, when I do or don't enjoy something, if the basis for my reaction is subjective or objective.  It can be either, or even a bit of both somehow.

You know, reviewing my conversations with my doc, I actually think he was quietly doubting my veracity.  He asked what I do, professionally.  I told him that I have been disabled for 25 years.  Yeah, his reaction was odd.  Didn't he know that?  Anyway.  Sometimes docs get really snooty when I say that.  I need to remind them that I attempted to get through engineering school.  That I have spent time, years, trying to hold down jobs, only to meet with utter failure.  I have tried 'high' and 'low' jobs, muscle and mind and easy jobs.  I can't maintain a day schedule and full activity, period.  It isn't like someone gave me a pass, so I then went and found a place to rest, then quit.  Don't look down your noses at me, fuckers.  Fix me, or at least find out what the problem is.  Then again, I think... they know, or suspect.  They just don't like that they can't seem to fix it.  Can a man live, long term, with a bad heart?  Is a bad heart enough to fully disable a man?  He didn't even seem to think my heart was all that bad, despite the information right in front of him.  My abilities (however temporary and limited in scope) seemed to make him think that I can't be that sick.  This last cardiac doc questioned some part of that, or all of it, if... passively.  But, yeah, I... realized he was very much doing that.  Fuck off or do YOUR job.  Yeah, fine, I get a bit grumpy about it.  But I would RATHER be working, going to school first, then hitting up a career in engineering.  Hrumph!

Well, later.