Waking up is almost fun.

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It can be fun.  And, with a few to many exceptions.  There is a hump, sometimes, that must be overcome, to end up rolling out of bed.  If it is a required wake, that bump in the road to consciousness is less pleasant, and usually larger, for me anyway.  But this morning that elucidation limiter was more help than hindrance.  Impetus rolled me, like a car to the high part of the parking lot speed bump, and gravity got me moving on into the day.  And it is an actual morning.  The last two days have been seeing me up in the middling single digit hours of the morning.  Just right.  I have been sleeping a bit extra, and allowing it, to gift myself for having pushed my day cycle around in a week.  That's just not too bad, so extra sleep is fair enough.  I'm just keeping an eye on it and will probably be putting that back into order, itself, shortly.

Medicines have been going in and down like clockwork.  My bp was 115/82 this morning, blood sugar was 200 and teens, which is forty some points better than my last check and 240 something better than when they checked it at the hospital.  I don't get it.  I really don't.  I am almost sure I was taking my medicines pretty well.  Though, I was missing consistently, what I did miss.  Maybe, over time, that was enough.  Never mind, I am on that.

No dreams that I can recall, no sense of light or darkness, flora or fauna, men, women, demons, or angels.  Just sleep.  Which... was good.  Those dreams, themselves, can titrate into the equivalent of a nuclear incident.  It can wear me out just as hard as any physical exertion.  I can bleed out in there.  Though, that last set of dreaming, actually saw me to a higher level of awareness, and to some peace, even as darkly as it was written.  Seeing justice served, perhaps even being the instrument of it, can be deliciously wonderful.  Dragons, it seems, have their own form of plumb pudding about which to dream.  A lot more blood, a lot less plumb.  Yum!

Today?  I don't know.  More sorting, as I can, and a bit more hunting and pecking.  The thing about both is that when I do either, I have to make sure I am not just taking a pile and, even if thinning it a bit, moving it from one square inch, foot, yard, to another.  I have to make sure that the piles are headed to their places.  Even getting closer, with an end-game in mind, is sort of okay.  But just moving a group of items from here to there is... useless.  Perhaps worse.  I do, sometimes, think of my piles as a dragon would think of his hordes.  *puff*

I am cleaning out my pan to make eggs, bacon, and sausage in a bit.  I would love to try Desert Cat's bacon wrap, but I just don't quite have it going on.  But it is on my mind!  Bacon bombs indeed (you have to scroll up).  Have a great morning!