Yes, another day of rest.

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Until my heart doesn't cringe from time to time, I am going to take it easy.  It has to unlock, and feel rested, before I will begin anew.  And I will be starting out a bit more slowly, taking rests every few days, seemingly needed or not.  I don't mind dying.  I don't mind pushing it until I die, if that is what it ends up taking.  But I would like to find a middle way if possible.  God gave me my life back, and keeps doing so.  I have to think there is a reason for it.  If nothing else but simple gratitude, though there is more, I would like to treat His gift with some due respect.  It is no small gift.  Thankfully He is an ultimately patient God.  Do not think I jest.  This recent event, I do believe, would be fatal to many.  And that I have been through countless such events, just pertaining to the heart, amazes me.  A lot of suffering with the gift and the returns.  But suffering is what I have to offer, mostly.  A fine currency of the realm, God does know the value of it.

I am feeling a bit better, again, this morning.  Having the bigger of the jobs I have been meaning to do out of the way, I hope, will help me get to the last of those things.  I was honestly worried about assembling the cart.  Sometimes those can be a strain.  Some are so poorly arranged, the instructions are so bad, and the weight seems to be excessive, that I was nervous about it.  I think, often, I am in such a rush that I complicate things.  The instructions were not great, but with a little patients and focus, they worked.  And if I pushed, I could have made the construction into a workout, as slow and deliberately as I handled the effort, it turned out to be nearly effortless.  The funny thing was, in spite of taking things slowly and carefully... thoughtfully... I do not think it actually ended up taking any more time to build.  Actually, if I ever get a woodshop fully arranged and powered, I would like to try my hand at making something quite similar, perhaps with a few improvements.

Today, I believe, is about slowly finishing the last of my efforts, plus washing those kitchen tools.  Hmm, I might consider purchasing some of those thin kitchen towels to drape over the small appliances, to keep the dust and oil from cooking and such off them.  Perhaps the next time I stop at Walmart.  Enough for two each, so they can be washed from time to time.  So few seem to consider the necessity required to keep things in functioning order.  Then again, it has taken me a long time just to realize there might be an order to things.  If I have spent so much time very close to death.  It's not like tea towels mean all that much as on drifts near, past, and back, that cosmic line that separates the living from the dead.  It just... there isn't room in the equations for worrying about dust.  Fair enough.

I am still on sick call.  I will be until, as I said, a certain intensity of innards eases... passes actually.  While this was an excellent example of proof of improvement, since I didn't slide into a coma and the horrors in there, and my body didn't fail as harshly or deeply as it has, I simply don't want to push.  I am hoping to find that mystical middle ground where I can do more, know when to back off and how far, and then get back to things when I can.  Oh, and how far I pushed?  I haven't written all I have done, but it was a lot.  And I have been working for weeks, or months.  A few other milder falls in there.  And I am pushing physically, by reading, through research, and in all areas.  My capacity has grown manyfold.  I think it may continue to grow.  Yes... almost alive.

Later.

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 Oh, right.  I still have this faint sense that a women is haunting my demesne.  She is casting her scent, but to... I almost sense a bit of devilry in the woman.  Taunting and teasing in all the ways a women enjoys mostly lovingly harassing a man.  Careful little one, I have a way of piercing the... veil.  Urhm, but it is a loverly thing.  I will let her haunt until, or unless, the hunger generated goes beyond my grasp.  It is, sometimes, even in an unrequited manner, quite good to be a man sometimes.  Yum!

Might just be a mischievous waif, or a little girl dreaming, but it might be a woman.  Just can't tell.  Sometimes, one is the other.  But I think it's a woman running around starting little fires.  The message is clear, mostly.  Gee I like women, even when they squirrel with my electronics.

Yeah, mix those two songs, and... that pretty well identifies the spirit of the feminine that is running around in my bean.  Oh, a pleasure.  A pleasure to be sure.  Then again, why do you think I have been pushing myself so hard?  Oh yeah, I... want more than a ghostly woman knocking around my mind.