Going back to bed?

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Yeah, maybe.  I hate to do it, on the one hand.  I hate sleeping, in a way.  Like eating or voiding, it seems like a waste.  I have acquiesced to the need.  And more, my body's greater need of it.  I finally surrendered to having to not control when, or how long.  I have never given in to it completely, and see it with some mild contempt even now.  More so with control having been almost completely lost.  But needing to go right back to bed after a long, if not good, sleep is extra frustrating.  I simply may have no choice.  It isn't just the mind, or the body.  Both are begging for more sleep.  On the good side, it might help in my attempts to change my schedule around.  Capitalists capitalize, or make the effort.  Not everything pans out.

From what I cooked last night, I had a small portion left this morning.  I ate it easily.  Pork shoulder chops.  This one couldn't have had more than four ounces of meat.  But that was enough to fill me.  Gosh I really am starting to love fresh pork.  I've always liked pork, but nothing beats having it butchered fresh off the bone, or hooves anyway.  Rich fresh goodness.  I have standard chops thawed if I am hungry later, and ham, eggs, and some other such.  I really ought to boil eggs.  I've got plenty.  And, if I have the ingredients, I would like to pickle some eggs.  A good way to have something easy on hand at all times.  The vinegar of pickled items cuts the grail in the throat that happens from time to time.  The eggs become a strange sort of 'hard' when preserved that way, so it's not simple to feast on them.  But a couple, on certain days, does quite well.

Yeah.  But for now, more sleep.  Perhaps reading as well, as I fall into sleep.  The writing is generally good.  The stories are so-so, if better than just average too.  I can be picky.  If I outright didn't like it, though, I wouldn't be reading.  I did like Vox's Roman era type fantasy.  I'd like to eventually see where those came from, or went.  I like the mechanics and meter of his writing.  Similar interests, or tastes, or something... with the writer, at least on a topic, does help.  Whether ending up a sparring partner for some time, or enemy, doesn't matter a great deal.  Actually, if you enjoy reading an enemy's books, there is a cleverness to it that is quite pleasant... if you know how to harvest it.  Nope, I trust no one.  I'll give any enough rope to hang themselves.  I have such a rope, and more is given daily.  It's the way it works.

Good night, or later if this turns into a nap, or long nap.  Or in any case, probably.  I'm just not that lucky.  And, by proxy, neither are you.  Scoot.  I've got reading and sleeping to tend.  Scoot!