This is The Way of The Weary
I smiled and waved to my all-new roommate as Betsy wheeled me past him. He smiled, too. Great start, right? Then he asked Betsy for the television remote control, the one for the lone television in the room.
Ugh!
"I like to watch television. MeTV. I don't sleep at night, so I need the TV on all the time."
So, that's what happened all night long. Television.
Not only that, he needs all of the lights on all of the time. Why? Not a clue. But fortunately, I'm able to combat the incessant stimulation by flooding my brain with … aural stimulation. Music. Complex music. Oddly structured compositions. Non-standard metal. Deconstructed jazz. And so on.
So I stick the ear buds in my ear holes, then fasten my industrial strength ear muffs to help block out my neighbors motorized bed vibrator, and then it's time to mummy-up!
I don my smooth and silky sleep mask, but the light still finds its way into my eyeballs, just underneath. So, I wrap my faded green blanket around my head. And that's that. Now I just need to sleep.
And I did. For three hours.
The music stopped at 249am, so I restarted it. But because I was angry (not practicing acceptance), I was unable to sleep much at all afterwards.
Then at 628am Betsy came in and woke me up, in a nice way. Gently. Quietly. So I did sleep again after all. Hooray for slumber!
Yes, I feel fatigued and frustrated, but unless this roommate dies sometime soon, I'll need to adapt. Surrender. Let go. And nap outside in the courtyard during the daytime.
At least I have my "Hu" comfort cookies!
Well, no I don't. My little sister forgot to re-order them. She's moving into one of her new houses this week. In the meantime, the 200 relish packets will suffice.
Housed
Oh, by the way… my elderly mother was supposed to move in with my sister right about now, but complications have arisen. My sister has to babysit my niece's two little dogs for the next two months. And apparently, babysitting two little dogs AND my mother (simultaneously) is an impossibility. Sooooo… it'll be another two months before my mother …
Eh. I won't go there. The important thing is that my cookies are on the way. Maybe. And also, that my mother is doing well, mostly hanging out at the park with (or without) her friends. She has a daily destination in this near perfect weather. Motivation. And is deriving satisfaction and joy.
Oh. I'm around a fair amount of elderly folks each and every day, and none seem as positively attuned as my mother.
That was Yesterday
I took several brief naps outside in the courtyard today, doing my best to catch up. Mostly I failed, but I did receive a surprise gift while sunning… a brand new spray bottle filled with cool water. You see, Betsy drove to the store during her lunch break to pick it up for me. Very nice of her, right? I mean, she really didn't have to do that.
Needless to say, the water spray proved invaluable, especially considering the effects of evaporative cooling upon my skin. That's the advantage of the dry desert air. It doesn't take much moisture to cool it. And that's why Evaporative Swamp Coolers used to be so prevalent here… far cheaper than owning and operating air-conditioning units.
419am
It's the guy from that awful 60s sitcom, The Beverly Hillbillies. So I think that means Barnaby Jones is on TV. And my roommate Billy is watching the heck out of it.
I did sleep for nearly four hours. And maybe that's enough. Maybe.
My body says it's not. But why listen to my body?
Billy and I conversed earlier. And again, he seems like a nice fellow… who is afraid of the dark.
But there are no rules against anything here. Nope, absolutely everything is allowed in Roommate Land. EVERYTHING!
Ummm… gonna try to go back to sleep now. My muscles don't like me. Achy. Cramping. Tired.
Six Forty Four
"Stahlwald" is playing loudly into my ear holes as I unwrap the layers encasing my skull. The band is called Nightmarer. Yes, indeed. An organized disorganization of dissonance plummeting beneath the sonic realm of what remains my grasp on realities cruel unusual twisting fateless demise into a riveting daylight consciousness spent napping and mentally collapsing synapses deprived and arriving at wrong conclusions confusions and illusions utilizing the slight of hand to hand her gentle grasp encompasses my essence with warmth and loving and lasting. She's feeling my truth revealed. Her touching. Wordless implications. Sometimes it's nice, plain, and simple. Yes. Let's do that instead.
In any case, I do not believe I slept additionally. My muscles aching. I am full of CFS again after three nights of not sleeping soundly. Reversion… into the version I'm not liking. This happens fast.
Howard Cha
I smiled and waved to my all-new roommate as Betsy wheeled me past him. He smiled, too. Great start, right? Then he asked Betsy for the television remote control, the one for the lone television in the room.
Ugh!
"I like to watch television. MeTV. I don't sleep at night, so I need the TV on all the time."
So, that's what happened all night long. Television.
Not only that, he needs all of the lights on all of the time. Why? Not a clue. But fortunately, I'm able to combat the incessant stimulation by flooding my brain with … aural stimulation. Music. Complex music. Oddly structured compositions. Non-standard metal. Deconstructed jazz. And so on.
So I stick the ear buds in my ear holes, then fasten my industrial strength ear muffs to help block out my neighbors motorized bed vibrator, and then it's time to mummy-up!
I don my smooth and silky sleep mask, but the light still finds its way into my eyeballs, just underneath. So, I wrap my faded green blanket around my head. And that's that. Now I just need to sleep.
And I did. For three hours.
The music stopped at 249am, so I restarted it. But because I was angry (not practicing acceptance), I was unable to sleep much at all afterwards.
Then at 628am Betsy came in and woke me up, in a nice way. Gently. Quietly. So I did sleep again after all. Hooray for slumber!
Yes, I feel fatigued and frustrated, but unless this roommate dies sometime soon, I'll need to adapt. Surrender. Let go. And nap outside in the courtyard during the daytime.
At least I have my "Hu" comfort cookies!
Well, no I don't. My little sister forgot to re-order them. She's moving into one of her new houses this week. In the meantime, the 200 relish packets will suffice.
Housed
Oh, by the way… my elderly mother was supposed to move in with my sister right about now, but complications have arisen. My sister has to babysit my niece's two little dogs for the next two months. And apparently, babysitting two little dogs AND my mother (simultaneously) is an impossibility. Sooooo… it'll be another two months before my mother …
Eh. I won't go there. The important thing is that my cookies are on the way. Maybe. And also, that my mother is doing well, mostly hanging out at the park with (or without) her friends. She has a daily destination in this near perfect weather. Motivation. And is deriving satisfaction and joy.
Oh. I'm around a fair amount of elderly folks each and every day, and none seem as positively attuned as my mother.
That was Yesterday
I took several brief naps outside in the courtyard today, doing my best to catch up. Mostly I failed, but I did receive a surprise gift while sunning… a brand new spray bottle filled with cool water. You see, Betsy drove to the store during her lunch break to pick it up for me. Very nice of her, right? I mean, she really didn't have to do that.
Needless to say, the water spray proved invaluable, especially considering the effects of evaporative cooling upon my skin. That's the advantage of the dry desert air. It doesn't take much moisture to cool it. And that's why Evaporative Swamp Coolers used to be so prevalent here… far cheaper than owning and operating air-conditioning units.
419am
It's the guy from that awful 60s sitcom, The Beverly Hillbillies. So I think that means Barnaby Jones is on TV. And my roommate Billy is watching the heck out of it.
I did sleep for nearly four hours. And maybe that's enough. Maybe.
My body says it's not. But why listen to my body?
Billy and I conversed earlier. And again, he seems like a nice fellow… who is afraid of the dark.
But there are no rules against anything here. Nope, absolutely everything is allowed in Roommate Land. EVERYTHING!
Ummm… gonna try to go back to sleep now. My muscles don't like me. Achy. Cramping. Tired.
Six Forty Four
"Stahlwald" is playing loudly into my ear holes as I unwrap the layers encasing my skull. The band is called Nightmarer. Yes, indeed. An organized disorganization of dissonance plummeting beneath the sonic realm of what remains my grasp on realities cruel unusual twisting fateless demise into a riveting daylight consciousness spent napping and mentally collapsing synapses deprived and arriving at wrong conclusions confusions and illusions utilizing the slight of hand to hand her gentle grasp encompasses my essence with warmth and loving and lasting. She's feeling my truth revealed. Her touching. Wordless implications. Sometimes it's nice, plain, and simple. Yes. Let's do that instead.
In any case, I do not believe I slept additionally. My muscles aching. I am full of CFS again after three nights of not sleeping soundly. Reversion… into the version I'm not liking. This happens fast.
Howard Cha
