Much sleep.

.

.

Mother calls me, she says.  I don't remember.  Sleeping eighteen, twenty, more hours at a time.  Do I get up, for water, a bite, the facilities?  Not that I recall, though not that I would.

Tired beyond some of your ability to uunderstand.  I won't say sleep is helping?  But it isn't hurting.  Mostly sleeping, now.  Not partly resting as before.

I did get up tonight.  A drive for business, to clean the vehicle, a few items at a few stores, and a trip to the dairy as well.  It was good to be out.

Ah, but 36s?  Waist?  I had to know.  And I was pretty sure.  So I ordered three new pants.  Two arrived today.  A shower, for my trip.  Then I tried them.  Oh well.  I'll be returning the 36s.  Oh, I can wear them.  But the 34s fit much better!

I... thought so.  And yet I didn't dare believe.  There is still another pair soon to arrive, to check.  But two out of three is majority.  Would fifteen to twenty more pounds off get me in 32s?  Crazy.  At my most fit, I wore 31 waisted jeans.  And, yes, mother remembers.  Wasn't sure she would.  I am, now, 6'5 1/2 (or a bit more?), 226 pounds, with a 34 waist and inseem.  My chest is a 48, if clothing sizes for tall are that or 50s.  Depending on the maker.  Still have a minor belly yet, still fat, as I see it (or especially used to see things).  

Well, that is a start.  Later.  Good night, actually.