Yesterday was a short day.

.
.
My internal calendar was off.  I thought yesterday was Saturday.  When you have one to three sleep periods a day, over a matter of days or week, keeping the calendar straight becomes impossible.  While I woke up well, I didn't always wake up long enough to get that right.  Yesterday was simply a very short day.  I slept late and went back to bed quite early.  It was a mildly rough day.  I woke this morning feeling pretty good, and rested.  So it goes.

Meats have been set out to thaw, plans are being made.  I don't know if I can do much, but I am ready to at least begin planning.  I still need to get to town.  I would like to work on the toilet and the faucet.  And I need to prep in case I can do a social event soon.  All of it is questionable.  All of it is possible, as I see things right at this moment.  Drifting through life, you learn to catch as catch can.  And, so, I do.  But that means being ready when ability seems to be at hand.  It seems a simple notion, unless you have drifted in life yourself, between life and death, health and illness, cohesive directed thought and a nearly unconscious psychic flow.  When you have been here, you understand that readiness, prep, is merely a state, not a promise to action.  That state can become bound, as iron rusts, only much more quickly.  But having it set means that, sometimes, even when you can't seem to force the function, need, want, or something subconscious might flip the switch and create the action.  Nothing is as it might seem to pure logic.  Survival, raw, sometimes, and reaction, when nothing else works.  But you do have to set the thing in motion for when the opportunity, in whatever sense, exists.  Then you pray.

Dreams, again, last night.  I remember little, nothing right at the moment.  I know there is something still in there, something I wanted to play with consciously.  It may, or may not, come to me through the day, or days.  If it does become manifest in the conscious mind, I may or may not choose to share it.  I probably share too much as is.  Then again, it's not like I am read by more than a handful, probably.  Even so, what is offered here is too rich for daily consumption, for all but the... well... a certain type.  Just the right balance of self-possession and looseness of mortal bonds to allow considerations that generally fall out of the mainstream stream of consciousness.  And an ability to... cope with pain, and pleasure, at the fringes of capacity.  Such people almost frighten me.  If not for the reasons mentioned.

A good day is a good day.  I love these too.  No pain, no exhaustion, some reasonable focus.  I embrace pain, when that is my lot.  And I embrace the simple and complex joys of living when that is set before me.  It is the only way to approach life and find satisfaction.  Later.