Little sleep, long hours, but better.

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Once I realized I was slipping my mortal coil by slipping past sleep, I exited that gig stage right.  Well, as I was able.  I'm still riding the wind at a terrible pace.  Eighteen hour days are hard on the old bod.  The choice, however, is that or three to six hour shifts up and down, neither ever asleep or awake.  I'll take the stronger, tea or coffee of life, that is.  Keep the mild, milquetoast, numb, bland.  I'll die either way:)  I'd just rather die screaming, awake, and even if in mechanical error, it is better to die active than to sleep to death.  Well, perhaps others would rather go out gently.  Not I.  Hopefully not too painfully, but even that?  I'd rather die roasting than to not even know I died.  I certainly hope for a... middle ground... mind you.

Up since 2:00 or 3:00?  Wait, no... 5:00, perhaps nigh on 6:00.  Almost woke earlier, but I know I need a bit more sleep so forced myself down.  Sometimes that works, rarely.  It's just that I have been pushing long enough hours so that I am in shape to negotiate.

Today is a holiday, so I can't get in.  However, I might get a check out.  I will be paying for my first beef this month.  I just need to arrange the cuts.  Excited.  Exciting.  I'd like to get a lot of it for jerky, then hamburger, ribeye, and... I don't know?  I actually probably should just speak with them, in person.  I hate the phone.  A shower, too.  Maybe to town, a bit of shopping?  Yeah, but not quite yet.

I hope you have some small celebration, or a big one.  Remembering those from the past and the present.  Be well.