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ArcticAir of Celeste
Jan. 8th, 2019 09:26 pmI'm still on my string of bad sleep days. Last night it was less than five hours again. I had a scary dream featuring an evil librarian who looked like Ben from "Lost." Don't ask me how a librarian can be so ominous, but he was. Fortunately, I had just quit the library job, but a friend wanted me to smuggle out some documents that she didn't have time to explain to me. I did it, and then the scary librarian started stalking me. I finally got up at six, only to find an email from a friend in PA who needed to vent about many health problems and her situation in general. Her husband has Parkinson's too, and he's not in a place that I ever want the Sparrowhawk to get to. So it's kind of hard to hear about his current state. I sent her a supportive reply, but then I cried, because I don't want that to happen to me.
I couldn't go back to sleep, because I had a therapy appointment. Madame thinks I'm "asking myself some good questions." If only I had some good answers!
Then I still couldn't go back to sleep, because I had an appointment for a haircut. But after that, I took a nap. Thus the day went by in a rather non-productive fashion. I did manage to call my mother with Facetime and have a more coherent conversation with her. She was disturbed that she had forgotten my birthday. I was happy to give her the good news that she hadn't. It's only January 8. My birthday is the 23rd. She said the 23rd had already happened. I said that was December 23rd. Then she was like, "Oh! January 23rd. That's right." I think she has kind of forgotten exactly when it is. But I appreciate the thought. She said cheerfully, "Oh, then I have another chance to forget." Heh! Today is the fifth anniversary of my father's death. I was afraid she might be feeling sad. But she didn't mention it, so I didn't bring it up either. Perhaps that's another thing she's forgotten, and maybe it's for the best.
I couldn't go back to sleep, because I had a therapy appointment. Madame thinks I'm "asking myself some good questions." If only I had some good answers!
Then I still couldn't go back to sleep, because I had an appointment for a haircut. But after that, I took a nap. Thus the day went by in a rather non-productive fashion. I did manage to call my mother with Facetime and have a more coherent conversation with her. She was disturbed that she had forgotten my birthday. I was happy to give her the good news that she hadn't. It's only January 8. My birthday is the 23rd. She said the 23rd had already happened. I said that was December 23rd. Then she was like, "Oh! January 23rd. That's right." I think she has kind of forgotten exactly when it is. But I appreciate the thought. She said cheerfully, "Oh, then I have another chance to forget." Heh! Today is the fifth anniversary of my father's death. I was afraid she might be feeling sad. But she didn't mention it, so I didn't bring it up either. Perhaps that's another thing she's forgotten, and maybe it's for the best.
