Awake for a bit.

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Speaking with my pedicurist, I talked about famine, as a component of the end times and the four horsemen.  Out of a book, she asked.  Okay.  I... did tell her which book, if perhaps I should have just nodded.  No reason to give probably no pause for thought, just another reason to discard.

I do realize I am partially read.  Understood?  Not a chance.  I merely write to the music that pops, when it pops.  I was correct, she has a guy.  Not married yet though.  Not sure that is part of the real plan anymore though?  Still, interesting to hear how people do these days.  I am more, even now... especially now, just a ghost of some forgotten time.  Perhaps even just a romanticized version of even that.

I can't figure out why I woke?  Ah, the world is warming.  I noticed the read from the colder rooms is 60.  It is usually 54º~58º, in the days.  Yes, warming, slightly, slowly.  Still cool outside, but not cold.  Wind keeps it cool.  But longer hours of sun really begins to warm the cave.

It's strange.  Too hot and too cold at once.  My body.  I get that from time to time.  I ate enough today, if not the best food.  That may be the problem.

I hope a bit of tea, or milk, and some reading, will get me back to bed before long.  I don't know, but I would like to swim tomorrow.  It is doubtful.  But if not tomorrow (today technically), then yet this week.  A start.  Perhaps I could get my backpacks reconfigured.  Dishes and laundry are almost done, and the kitchen is close to being... well... closer.  I'd like to get those bits done, and a bit more ahead in clearing.  Mixing more cleaning with exercise next week.

How about a swim this week, a swim and hike, maybe two swims and a hike, next week, and go from there?  I sense I should push, now.  So tired.  Could you imagine a heart attack just as I am clearing?  I have some concern by how I feel.  Yea, back to meds.  If I worry about them.  Could they go from helping to hurting?  Or, actually, when does that happen?  I just don't want victory to be eaten by a foolish error.  I have no hope it would be fatal.  You have no idea how cautious some opportunities must be handled.  If delicate handling doesn't mean delicacy, necessarily.

Good night.