Down late, up early.

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Strange how that worked out.  I made it to almost 14:00, erring up to an half hour either way.  Which is exceptional.  So late in terms of my day, I can't recall.  Waking right at 19:00 isn't ideal though.  I'll nap to balance it all a bit in a while.  I am hoping to be able to work shortly.  While waking was impossible to avoid, I couldn't work right off.

Dishes, getting that going, is my first goal.  Transporting boxes into stacks, and putting mail into the shredder... collecting it first.  It would be good to clear a surface every few days.  The problem with opening surfaces is that they become collection points.  I'd love to think I can change the future, but... that... isn't as easy as it sounds.

Speaking of that, have you ever truly tried to change your behavior?  Whether it is something odd, like not allowing items to collect on open surfaces, or quitting something.  The latter I know is possible, but not in a vacuum.  I couldn't quit tobacco until my mom did.  Or, I could but would fail when visiting.  I quit four times.

As for alcohol, that slowly stopped being used.  Has that been two or three years now?  I have a bottle of vodka from my last run.  A two liter of mid-grade, unopened.  I wonder if it has a shelf-life?  I have thought about it, from time to time, as with tobacco.  The want slowly gets weaker, fading with time.  They say it was good to quit, for health.  My real reason was because of squirrely behavior with alcohol, and a useless addiction regarding tobacco.

As to other behaviors?  I keep trying to add cleaning and neatness or organization routines in, but I simply haven't found a way.  With my days and nights, and capacity on any given day, in chaotic flux, regularity isn't possible.  Just working eight to twelve hours a week crushes me.  Sometimes I can't see the world around me.  Still...  What does work is going to salads, using disposable plates, reducing (I am hoping) access to as many dishes, pots, and pans... putting many of them away in boxes initially... will help.

Some things I can't change, within a paradigm.  Figuring out a new way of doing things, whole cloth, on the fly, untried... not possibly known even... is tricky.  It is reverse engineering an idea, or whole stack of them, into practical applications.  It's possible, I am doing, trying.  But it's a potent trick for a walking dead man.  I don't think I am all dead yet.  Might as well try it.  What do I have to lose?

Later.

No more work.

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I did what I could.  I was surprised at what was done, starting with staying awake.  That, I was beginning to think, was going to be it.  Then I got two short bursts.  Enough to say I did something.  Plus developing a plan, to begin gathering empty, to start, boxes for tearing down.  I didn't implement that last night, no focus.  It will be happening going forward.

Daydreaming, almost as if I was asleep.  I don't remember what about, or how my mind can do a sort of split screen, were... is my mind taking turns, or are they "playing" at the same time, my vision choosing which to see what moments?  Very strange.  Yes, nearly asleep.

I have to feed the ducks.  The cats have been fed already.  I should be into the dishes quickly tonight.  I don't think there is enough laundry of any sort for another load yet.  But that reboxing project, and storage.  Perhaps empties in as full boxes out, too.  Anything to create efficiency, and speed the projects.

The sun is out.  It seems slightly dark out there, but will know more shortly.  Oh, the barrel back from the curb too.  Good night.

Awake, if that is it.

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So far.  I will finish laundry, drying whatever needs it.  I am hoping to do just a bit more trash collecting.  Perhaps finish clearing the space for dishes.  If so, I hope to hit the dishes, that which is ready...

Well... the Internet died for a bit.  During that time I got the area cleared, and checked laundry.  I was pleasantly surprised.  I hadn't, as feared, left a load in the washing machine.  I reset the load in the dryer on medium, or the second notch into warm.  I think my machine has five heat settings and a fluff setting.  The final heat setting, which is for cotton, white cotton, if you want it sanitized.  Or getting rid of evidence?  :p

Some trash cleared, dishes collected, plus this and that, while figuring it out.  It isn't quite ready for dishes.  It needs washed off.  I'll do that when next I hit dishes.  I'll just empty a basin, fill it with hot sudsy, then change out for rinse, then let it dry as I finish dishes.

Not fancy.  Not much.  Not fast.  But I pulled out of a collapse and have started up.  Yea.  I have done the things that worried me most.  There is far more work to do than the feared work.  But I can do the remainder a box at a time, if required.  Actually, every time I go to the loo, or for tea, or go anywhere, I should stack a few out.  It will cut down on concerted effort.

A bit rough.  Achy.  I never did take that aspirin.  I will tonight.  It sure might help.  Hmm, best bring the trash barrel in next time I feed the ducks.  Later.

A few tricks.

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I hate wasting, even a wake-up.  So I tried every trick at my disposal.  I don't think it is working.  So... this one last time.  Blogging, a procrastination to hold off sleep, while my eyes burn for sleep.  Probably a losing effort.  How many efforts in life are likely?  You, I, we... aren't here to win.  To fight, or just live?  I have no choice.  Life, for me, is a fight.  One I have already lost.  Still, why give up even now?  I have nothing to lose.  Only the pain and struggle give this life meaning, structure, a weak grasp of the real.

I realized my feet need care.  Without being able to afford a pedicure monthly, I lost track.  My heels are so harsh they bruise other parts simply through light contact.  I ordered a few pieces of equipment to see if I can fix that.  Wouldn't want them to crack, either.  The tools and pieces cost less than a single trip to the now closed anyway spas.  Gotta do it.

I am still waiting on flat sheets, ordered over a mont ago.  White cotton, simple but they bleach well.  Pillow cases, of that sort, ordered on payday, are almost here.  For toys, I ordered steel marbles.  Can't play against glass with them, they will be their own set.  Now I have room, upstairs, to practice.  Silly?  In a small way, I hope so.  While life is a losing battle, perhaps partly for that, partly in spite of that, and partly aside from that, life shouldn't be taken totally seriously.  That is losing, on steroids and speed.

An uncomfortable start.

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Innards feel bad.  Sleep didn't leave me rested.  Lungs burn.  Even so, a better day than I am used to waking into.  My first chore is to decide whether to wake or go back to bed.  It looks like the sun is out solidly if not fiercely?  I'll know more when I feed the ducks.  Whether shortly, or later, I am looking forward to today, and the rest of the week.

It isn't just the work, it is more the idea of the finished product.  But the hope of being able to do the work is a good.  At this pace it will take a while.  But a while is much faster than never.  And, yes, I do see it coming together.  Little stations will be cleared.  One for sorting through boxes, one for tearing down boxes, one for processing dishes, possibly other stations.

As things get done, the processes behind them will become burned in.  Keeping up should become easier.  There is nothing like being buried in a kingdom of dirt then digging out of it to make one appreciate open clean clear spaces.  As well, eating mostly salads will limit dishes.  I may even downsize some of my dishes and else.  Some set aside, some tossed.  Gotta clean, clear.

Remember when I received grief about buying styrofoam bowls, for feeding the girls?  Now, considering the source, I didn't take the reprimand seriously... if I could be wrong.  He can be intractable.  Anyway, I only bought that because there wasn't a choice.  I thought them too light, flimsy, to work.  Not only do they work well, hold up, but they clean up exceptionally well and easily.  I have only had to replace a few, mostly from external abuse such as being stepped on.  I don't have to waste water washing as with ceramic bowls, or toss the bowls after two or three meals as with paper bowls... all thr types I tried became nasty, fast.  Super for feeding cats.

I'll probably be going back to bed shortly.  But I will be digging in when I can stay awake.  Later.

All night.

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I didn't work all night.  It took until now to complete what was to be done.  I did more of this... less, fewer, or none of that.  I did more than my list.  After setting up dishes, I washed and set them back up.  Couldn't finish them, no good place to put them.  Washed them twice.  But they are ready.  Two loads of laundry.  I need to check dryness of the first load.  As soon as it is dry, I'll put the other load to dry.  That'll be that for that.

Trash wasn't the first thing.  It was the last.  But... I started on it.  Quite ready to finish off through the week.  As well, the counter opening is well on it's way to a reality.  My next wake cycle should see those completed.  Finding empty boxes, and stacking them somewhere... where I can sit to process them, is next on the list.  As well as sorting storage boxes down here, storing supplies better, and getting toss boxes down and or in a pile of their own.

I probably should stick to two 2 hour sessions a day, four days a week.  Perhaps push at the end, if I see a way through to a neater finish.  Too much more and I drop for a week or more.  I can't push too hard.  I break.  Still, if I can open up those eight hours, as I have, I can see serious improvements.

Weeks to months.  I will be ready or dead.  All good.

Late AND early?

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Ye-as.  A day later than planned, but earlier (within what passes for my day).  I... can't be sure if, or how, my day is changing.  Losing or gaining hours.  Sleeping once or twice a day.  Two long naps, or whole extended sleeps?  I'm... never... I don't... remember.  At least I usually wake knowing where, and when, I am.  Mostly.

A shower, plants in for a short spot after me... for their biweekly or monthly sip.  No, they flourish.  I need more.  Then a few small loads of dishes set.  Finally a load of laundry set.  It doesn't sound like it is running...  Yep!  It is a quiet machine.

A week lost.

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No telling if the fall is over.  I made plans last night, for the weekend... today.  That box transfer, a load of laundry, a shower, a load of dishes, opening counter space, and putting sacks in trash cans while collecting trash.  Finish it all?  Dishes can be left to soak, but if so, two smaller loads.  If laundry is put in late, then it can go until tomorrow.

Sleep was good.  Most pains have subdued to the point they aren't, mostly, felt.  I have to think about them to feel them.  Which is avoided.  Still, aspirin as I wake, so they won't come flooding back.  I expect it to return.  I am hoping to ease the return of pain.  The fan makes life, sleep, reasonable.  Hopefully the ac won't be needed for another month, regularly.  But who knows.  The girls were fed right away, as I slept long.  And litter was refreshed right after.  Fresh water after I shower.  Ducks shortly.  The ladies are doing super with their egg sitting.  I don't know if that will work out, but I am hoping.

Yes.  Plans.  Up late, but that has no influence on work, save that I am well rested.  I have so much to do and time is ticking.  Is an important visitor truly on the way?  Is it who I perceive?  Why the visit I can't say, if so.  Death, life, or... just... because.  Excited.  Insane?  You probably should hope.  Nothing is just about me.  Nothing.  A servant isn't... visited, for their own sake, even if for the servant's seeming sake.  One as such is never simply passing through.  I... will be ready, if it kills me.

Later.

I thought...

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I started seeing these in the lineup.  I avoided them at first.  Then I noticed "foamy".  Could they be related to an infrequent visitor, somehow?  I didn't think so.  Only one way to be sure.  Nope.  But a few reminded me of my early years, my mom, and...  So, I decided to present a few.

Food isn't helping.

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I had a small hope that food would help.  Not only is it not helping, I am feeling ill from it.  No, it's good.  My body just isn't able to deal with it.  The cats have been fed, litter and the ducks next.  But that is it. Back to bed.  I'll keep a lined pail nearby.  Food may not stay down.  Didn't have much, doesn't seem to matter.

Good night.

So much sleep.

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Most of this week has been sleep.  I wake for five to ten hours, then crash for ten to eighteen hours.  I do wake, from time to time, during sleep.  But it isn't sustainable.  Either I never really wake, or I wake well but can't sustain, like a flash in the dark.  It is getting warm, 70° to 71° up there, even at night.  It is usually a bit cooler downstairs.  With just the fan, so far, the heat is tolerable.  Actually, I am usually cold.

It wasn't the knock on the noggin, if that isn't helping.  A headache and the rest does return occasionally.  But it is milder.  Sleep is helping that.  No other major problems, other than exhaustion while awake.  Just of the body, the mind is clear.  Minor aches and pains, aside.  Aspirin isn't required.

I best try to do a few things.  Feeding all, perhaps a load of laundry, cat litter, and changing that container box upstairs.  If possible, breaking down the boxes upstairs.  Best hurry, sleep is calling again.  Hmm, actually, aspirin is required today.  If I don't work, I can do without.  The headache increased while just planning.  All good, even if the pills don't work.  Later.

A 15:00 wake.

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It wasn't until 7:00 to 7:30 before I could sleep.  I felt so good.  The temperature was just right, it was the first painless session I have had in...  I... can't even remember.  I thought about working, but I knew that would bring back the pain.  No, I wanted that little piece of a nearly normal life.  I rode it until sleep arrived.

She came to me again.  Rested with me.  This time honestly.  As a sister, cousin, platonic.  She was with me every time I brushed consciousness.  I sensed her even beyond.  But... she... isn't a sister, or a cousin.  And she is beautiful, sexy, feminine.  I... almost made it.  The failure was mine.  I am not... that strong.  If I am not sure I wish to be.  Some strengths are flaws?  I think so.

I dreamed of meeting some younger vocational in my faith.  I began to notice peculiar absences, bruises and other marks.  Antifa?  Rioters?  No, that wasn't it.  Near.  It took my mind a bit to "see" what the young priest, nun, and cohort of other vocational and avocational folk were about.  It made an old, idealistic, aspect of myself beam with pride, a pride I have long since abandoned.

They were going into dark places, in civvies, passively resisting evils.  Taking beatings without offering resistance, perhaps worse.  I finally, once I had it down without a doubt, if without collecting evidence... if without any intention of doing so, requested a meeting with the young priest, he and I alone.  I was certain he was the pack leader, although without official power save example.

I let him know I understood what they were doing.   I let him process this.  He remained quiet, attentive, cautious.  I proceeded to explain something I don't think he knew... why.  Sacrifice, justice, mercy, not, or always, in that order, and more.  Penance, a sense of unworthiness, and more... but these would do as the majority of the majority. He... actually nodded, almost with relief.  He really wanted to speak.  Neither of us was quite ready for that yet.

I suggested I understood, if from a slightly different angle.  I remember when dying for some perceived good seemed better than living in one's own sinful skin.  Even when not acted, the thoughts, so sinful, itched to be released.  His thurst for the young nun was plain for me to see.  If her ardor was lost to their passion for sacrifice, a dangerous thing if awakened in flesh, tipping her one of two very dark ways.  I see much.

I only suggested he, they, had more important duties than to tempt God, by casting themselves down, counting on angels... or in a way worse, not counting on God to spare them.  To live, humbly, with the vices of flesh, with only divine mercy as a saving grace no matter their station or other graces.

To give their lives to humble, difficult, failing, limited service, and to find the rare joys in a simple, humble, uneventful slog to a long life of gifting himself to the ungrateful.  No, it isn't sexy.  But pain, even provoked death, isn't the way to salvation.  An unprovoked martyrdom is an express ticket.  A provoked death is merely suicide.

I told him some of my story, basically service in suffering.  It's not fancy glorious or dignified, but it seems to be what God asks of me.  I don't know if it is enough for all.  If I don't seem to have been given a choice.  I also told him one of his crew was about to die from a not-yet received aneurysm.  And one of the women, shortly thereafter, would lose a baby she didn't know was there.

I didn't press, or talk of it again.  I did notice the bruises heal, mostly not returning... over time.  The nun became pregnant.  Things became tense, then peace was found.  And life went on.  Harshly, simply, humbly, but... as rightly as we dare, can.  Amen.

Couldn't sleep.

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The headache and nausea were too severe.  Aspirin did it's work, slowly.  As I browsed what little of the world isn't hidden through duplicitous deceit and overt and covert censorship, the various difficulties dissipated.  It took a while.  I could have gone to bed an hour or two ago, but it felt so good being temporarily pain free, that I have enjoyed the moments.  Hard headed, to be sure.

Thankful, for the pain.  The appreciation for the scant fleeting moments without it is greater than the boredom of never knowing the difference.  A little more balance would be pleasant.  Who has the time for pleasantries?  Oddly?  No bump or sore spot where I hit.  Must have hit it flat on flat, not on a corner.  All good.

I'll be turning in shortly.  Then trying to get to my list the next time I wake.  Perhaps tending the litter box, then having a snack after.  It is good to feel like I don't hurt, for a while.  No worries, I'll dig my way back into pain shortly.  It, I am beginning to think, is part of why I am still here.  I do it well.

Later.  Good night.  Good morning.

Banged that drum.

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While toodling around, trying to do something or other, I hit my head hard.  Ran into wood, but size and sturdiness negated any believed give from the material.  At first I thought it would be a simple forgive and forget.  Then my hearing was off.  I thought, perhaps, it just caused nasal backfill, but that wasn't it.

It was as if my listening organs were dislodged from my receiver.  As if they were out of sync, sideways to each other.  Then a headache set in.  I had to sleep.  A bit after midnight the girls reminded me I had not fed them.  I hadn't eaten either.  So I crawled out.  It was tough getting up.  I have well and truly wrung my clock.

Hearing is back to normal.  Tinnitus is a bit more pronounced, the headache with the addition of leaving me slightly nauseous exists, and now my neck bones are off, out, sore.  A dose of aspirin and a bite, after feeding the girls, and it is back to bed.

I had never tasted a cured beef.  Similar to a cured ham?  I recently bought some to try.  Along with cheeses.  It's not really my thing, but I will try not to waste.  Live and learn.  They suggest capers, lemon juice, and olive oil... also commonly served with beef tartare.   I may seek other ideas as well.  Perhaps diced into a salad.

Wow.  I hit hard.  Ugh.  At least hearing has normalized.  Oh, ouch.  Good night.

Lots and lots of sleep.

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And problems.

I called my bank.  Too late, they said, to cancel one of the bills.  In spite of telling me last month they wouldn't pay accounts early.  My bank seems to be working with creditors, against me, in an attempt to create overdrafts and other fees and charges.  I have changed some things Which should end that.  As well, I will be fixing other problems.

I heard the doorbell.  Then knocking.  Shortly after waking.  Couldn't find a cover... hat.  Still, peaked out.  Didn't see a vehicle in my drive.  If there was a vehicle out front, I would have had to look in such a way as to be seen.  So I didn't look.  Shortly after I heard a vehicle moving.  It was my known neighbor.  I texted him.  Nothing back.

And, for the last bit of time, days, a week or two, her.  Several of them?  It is difficult, the celibate life.  Real, imagined, memory, ghost, an actual psychic reaching out... or tease, or else, I cannot say.  It does stress my way and will.  She has to know the price.  It is available, but costs a ring.  On the good side, my price frightens her a lot more than her offer disturbs me.

Phantom alarm.

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Okay, well, no.  The alarm was real.  However, I hadn't turned it on.  It hasn't been on since I changed batteries a month ago.  Nonetheless it went off at midnight.  Just one.  Though they probably both defaulted to midnight, or 00:00.  I hadn't touched the alarm since before midnight yesterday, thus phantom.

The fan is helping, but it was 69° F upstairs, 68° downstairs, with the furnace set at 66°. I will have to open things up.  That is getting too warm for sleep, yet it can't be so warm that ac is already needed?  Ugh.  Open the downstairs during the day, upstairs at night?  Until it gets too hot out there.  That might be nearly here.  The weather isn't what it used to be.  The weathermen will tell you, no matter what happens, it is manmade, even when men aren't doing anything.  Or... have they piped that bs down? Is... anybody watching?

I fed the girls right off.  I will tend their litter before going back to bed... whenever that is... probably in two to five hours.  I may not be able to do more than little and light work tomorrow.  Changing out the box, perhaps using the riding mower if needed, and setting up a small load of dishes after opening up a counter.  Even that may be between sleep sessions.  Assuming it doesn't rain.

Everything I try to do is conditional.  If this, then that.  When or where this or that, then those.  Some say that is true for all, but not to this extent.  Oh, right, I have to start meds back up.  Crap, always something.  Yea, a light load tomorrow.  A shower yet tonight.  Medicine reset.  Ugh.  Later or good night again.

Hours.

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It took hours, after feeding the girls, to feed and tend the ducks.  Both have very good nests going.  Not sure it will end in ducklings, but I am pulling for them.  We will see.  I also ate myself and treated the girls.  Running out of treats, so rationing.  Still, it beats nothing.  And they nibble anything I don't finish.

Still dark out.  Not cold but cool.  I am about to go down again.  Not as grumpy of body and mind.  If heading toward insomnia if care isn't taken... given.  Some of it is age.  Some of it health.  If the majority is recent efforts.  I keep pushing to see if there might be a way through, over, under, or around.  The risk is insomnia.

Still, being this exhausted from work is a good thing.  Much as having shame, while difficult, is better by far than not having it.  So very, nearly deathly tired.  So tired I sweat?  Or is that from the pain?  Can't wake enough to discern fully.  Not sure if that is the only difficulty understanding.  Proximity to death confuses too.

Good night, or more.

The sun went under.

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Clouds must either have formed, had just a stitch open to the east, or blown in or closed.  Whatever the case, I don't remember what I had done or been unsuccessfully trying to do.  I do know I had set the timer to feed the critters, but shut it down seven and change minutes before it sounded.

I didn't know much, only that I couldn't do those chores.  I was failing so hard, terribly, fast.  I don't remember going upstairs, or resetting the bed.  One blanket?  I remember the last part.  I didn't question my previous unremembered decision at that point.  I don't remember crawling in.  I did, right then, realize how it was possible.  Shade from the sun didn't make it possible, it left no options.

It was up to a quarter before or likely after ten when I went down.  It was about 15:30 when I woke.  Mostly to do the groundhog thing, and feed critters.  When the ducks get theirs, I'll probably crash again.  I am probably going to sleep a day or two.  Yea, I overdid recently.  And, when I can stand without wobbling, I will do more.

Other than that box needing reboxed, and the removal of toss boxes as possible, the upstairs is done.  Downstairs?  *sigh*  There is only... everything.  As written prior, I do have plans.  Opening a place to dry dishes, and starting in on those.  As well, collecting empty boxes, wherever they may be, then breaking down non-keepers.  It is good to have a small stack of sturdy boxes ready to enlist quickly.  As well, begin going through boxes with items as I find them.

It might be a day or two before I can start.  I hurt, as if being stepped on, with everything inside wanting to get out, tired beyond my means to stay awake.  If the sun isn't blasting me.  Lungs on fire, with insomnia trying to take control.  Muscles to ligaments strained, which hurt right to bones.  But the call is more potent than pain, right to risking life... if it looks more like my body shuts down as I reach that point.

Still, I am happy with it.  I just wish I had a way to push through.  All ahead full, damn the torpedos.  Later, or much later.

A terrible few days.

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I tried Saturday and Sunday to gather trash, in order to get it out and then to the curb. I could not.  Sampson after his haircut.  I have some time yet today.  I... can't.  The weight I feel on me, crushing me.  I am only awake because, for the first day in weeks, the sun is out full force.

I am either too hot or too cold, always, lately.  I had windows open and a fan going last night, after suffering frequent overheating while sleeping.  The heat from the sun that poured in this morning was horrendous, and the light.  Fine, I surrendered.  No matter how bad I felt, I couldn't sneak past that and back to sleep.  If I absolutely have to sleep in the day, it looks like the closet, with ac.

While waking, I remembered embarrassing bad deeds.  It was not intended, this aspect of it.  Not all we do is meant to be noticed, even if thought alone, that isn't always the case.  Too long ago to do a curative.  And, actually, awareness came too late to have apologized.  At least I know shame, even nearly forty years later.  Technically not a sin?  I am claiming it, if not enumerated as such.

Actually, though, while a terrible feeling, a gift.  I spent the rotten hour waking praying, and weeping before God.  In gratitude... that I may know shame, that I didn't continue along that path, that none were hurt worse... that I may yet seek forgiveness if only vicariously through God.  There is something about shame that makes physical pain easier to bear.  It doesn't remove it.  I am still stricken.  I suppose it acts as penance?  It's definitely in that ballpark.  Not enough to get the trash out, but...

Funny that.  After trying to believe I was a good guy, to coming full circle to being grateful to face pieces of my dark truths.  Who'd a thunk it.

Oh, well, good morning.

Her, me, neither, both?

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Real, living, dead...