That was a fine sleep.

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If it were a meal, while not a holiday feast (I mean the better kind), it was like a perfect dinner.  Satisfying without feeling stuffed at the end, bits and more of favorites new and old, all the satisfaction, none of the bloat.  A reminder of what defines the ideal of sleep is good to have once in a while.  Sleep, in these days, has been pretty good. The last three years, give or take, have seen me to almost normal sleep, usually.  Contrast that with decades of never being awake or asleep, ever.  While my sleep cycle is still off, meaning regularity is nigh on to impossible, having, usually, some form of smaller sleep cycle and longer waking day, with clear differences, has been... literally a Godsend.  You cannot know the difference.  It takes years of no real sleep to understand.  I understand why I was so distraught earlier on.  I am surprised I was ever able to find any kind of balance and not drop into complete alcoholism.  Alcohol, with all it's faults, sometimes could trip my system and allow for sleep.  And with sleep, a real waking cycle or three after.  Thing is, as much as I enjoyed that, and alcohol, I could never really learn to truly like it.  While I could consume vast volumes, I could not continue to drink.  One time, one shot, then I needed to rest from it for days, but more usually a week or more.  Just an oddity to go in with the others.

I am sure I dreamed.  Nothing too troubling, or outstanding.  It is just that the sleep seemed... fertile?  It wasn't a dead, flat, empty sleep.  I don't mind remembering dreams, good or bad, usually.  I much prefer something in there, remembered or not, than nothing.  At least as a general rule.  It adds depth, or a time scale, or life, to sleep... at least as I generally sense things.  Yes, last night was a perfect sleep.

As I was waking I noticed the dream of another.  In it they were terrified.  They dreamed of death, and life after, but not the type that would be reassuring.  A woman, I am almost sure, was the dreamer.  The dream was that, when she died, she indeed lived on.  But not passing into another form.  She dreamed she lived forever in her rotting corpse.  A horrible dream, to be sure.  I tried to send her comfort but she was too tightly wrapped in her dreams.  So I just prayed for her.  Terrible dream, terrible notion.  It wasn't my dream, and I believe I have seen it not to be true, so the dream was just a "good nightmare", as I say.  Yes, I do like my nightmares, even one as such.  But others don't.  She was definitely of the type who do not enjoy nightmares, and this was one of her 'grand-daddy' nightmares.  I hope she left it in her sleep.  Don't ask me how I saw, or if it was real.  Perhaps I dreamed that I saw it, wasn't awake.  But that doesn't seem the case to me.

Ah, today?  Having started a few things yesterday, I am hoping to do a bit more today.  I have decided, other than hitting the bathroom a bit, and doing dishes, I am going to leave off out there.  I had it set, the bathroom and kitchen, give or take.  Going back in would be nice, but I think I will move on to the living room.  I will begin clearing and straightening, then dusting and vacuuming.  I may work to get shelving for the various components that go with the television, putting the devices up.  And, then, steam vacuuming the joint.  If I keep going back to what I just did, I'll never move forward, I have decided.  If nothing else, I will keep the layers, per area, to a minimum, by hitting and moving on.  It's as good as I can personally do, I think.  So, I will do it.

Showered last night, perhaps I'll fix something to eat before the sun is up as well.  A bit of blogging and new sifting and coffee consumption as I wake.  Not fantastic, but it is something, and a start.  It's probably nearly required.  So it goes.  Have a good morning.