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Aldebaran of Bluster
Mar. 1st, 2024 09:35 pmI would start this post off by saying "Remember our little experiment on Tuesday?" except that I never said anything about it in the first place. The Sparrowhawk wanted to attend a meeting that started at 6:15 this morning. However, he's not normally very high functioning at such an hour, so he assumed he wouldn't be able to. I suggested he could try re-jiggering his medication dose so he could be more active earlier, then try going to bed early and getting up at 5. So on Tuesday, we tried it. It worked pretty well for the Sparrowhawk. We did a dress rehearsal of putting our clothes on and being ready to go at the appointed time. Then we had a cup of tea and went back to bed. It pretty well wrecked me for the day, possibly because I still had a bit of post-viral malaise hanging around. Anyway, it worked.
So today was the day to try out the real thing! We went to bed early, but this turned out to be a bit of a catastrophe. The Sparrowhawk woke up at 1 am, and could not go back to sleep for the rest of the night. This never happens, and we are both perplexed. I just woke up repeatedly due to various forms of pain. Somehow, he was the one who was bright and chipper, and I was the one who was blinking and grumbling like an owl with a hangover. However, we put our clothes on and were sheveled if not actually gruntled, and I drove him over to his meeting. I considered it too much to ask to have him drive himself. I'm sure he could have done it himself if he'd been fleeing a volcano or an alien invasion, but in the absence of an emergency there was no reason not to provide him with a chauffeur. It was still pitch dark. It was just getting light as I drove home. I came back to pick him up about an hour and a half later, and then we had a delicious nap. I don't know why it's extra-nice to sleep in the daytime, but it just is.
I got one thing out of this that made all the trouble worth it--other than the satisfaction of obtaining something the Sparrowhawk wanted that he thought was unavailable. During a rare moment of actual sleep last night, I dreamed I was driving a van for a music group that was planning to record a music demo at a home studio. The van was to help ferry their equipment around. It was a jazz trio, featuring CHARLES DE GAULLE on baritone saxophone! "Charles de Gaulle?" I said. "I didn't even know he played an instrument." "Oh yeah," they told me. "He was in a cover band the whole time he was in exile." The cover on the CD featured a picture of a ticket with the words "END TIMES" on it. It was going to be a CD of songs about the end of the world. It is entirely worth the loss of a night's sleep and a day's activity to visit an alternate world where Charles de Gaulle plays bari sax. My brain is a strange and wondrous thing. I sense the footprints of Howard Waldrop somewhere about. Wonder if Charles de Gaulle ever ran into the Waldrop version of Ike and indulged in a little clandestine jam session . . . .
So today was the day to try out the real thing! We went to bed early, but this turned out to be a bit of a catastrophe. The Sparrowhawk woke up at 1 am, and could not go back to sleep for the rest of the night. This never happens, and we are both perplexed. I just woke up repeatedly due to various forms of pain. Somehow, he was the one who was bright and chipper, and I was the one who was blinking and grumbling like an owl with a hangover. However, we put our clothes on and were sheveled if not actually gruntled, and I drove him over to his meeting. I considered it too much to ask to have him drive himself. I'm sure he could have done it himself if he'd been fleeing a volcano or an alien invasion, but in the absence of an emergency there was no reason not to provide him with a chauffeur. It was still pitch dark. It was just getting light as I drove home. I came back to pick him up about an hour and a half later, and then we had a delicious nap. I don't know why it's extra-nice to sleep in the daytime, but it just is.
I got one thing out of this that made all the trouble worth it--other than the satisfaction of obtaining something the Sparrowhawk wanted that he thought was unavailable. During a rare moment of actual sleep last night, I dreamed I was driving a van for a music group that was planning to record a music demo at a home studio. The van was to help ferry their equipment around. It was a jazz trio, featuring CHARLES DE GAULLE on baritone saxophone! "Charles de Gaulle?" I said. "I didn't even know he played an instrument." "Oh yeah," they told me. "He was in a cover band the whole time he was in exile." The cover on the CD featured a picture of a ticket with the words "END TIMES" on it. It was going to be a CD of songs about the end of the world. It is entirely worth the loss of a night's sleep and a day's activity to visit an alternate world where Charles de Gaulle plays bari sax. My brain is a strange and wondrous thing. I sense the footprints of Howard Waldrop somewhere about. Wonder if Charles de Gaulle ever ran into the Waldrop version of Ike and indulged in a little clandestine jam session . . . .
