Intermission
Coffee is the pause between who I was five minutes ago and who I’m trying to be today.
― AI
Coffee is the pause between who I was five minutes ago and who I’m trying to be today.
― AI
The word of the day is anxiety. A lack of sleep leads to it.
In me, anyway.
Last night was somewhat weird. I remember being half‑awake and hearing someone say something about not worrying about doing something now, but doing it when I can. I went back to sleep. Then I woke up around 3, got out of bed, and wondered if something had happened.
It hadn’t.
For some reason I put coffee on, went upstairs, and took a shower. I got dressed, came back down, and was so drowsy I could barely do anything.
So I stayed up until 7:30.
I know — why?
I can’t figure it out, either. But I went back to bed at that point and later got up at 10:30 feeling pretty good.
It didn't last, though.
Anxiety crept in throughout the day, and I felt like I was cracking up. Things that are usually minor annoyances were getting to me in a big way. I put up with it, because I had to. I know there was one slice of an hour where I felt like just sitting and doing literally nothing. I kind of needed that, because limiting experience limits anxiety.
At least, for me it does.
However, now I feel okay, I would suppose because the day’s winding down, and bedtime is near. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I’ll never stay up when I wake up early again.
I really don’t know why I did it this time.
UPDATE 8/23
Up at 2 in the morning. Duty called, and now bed awaits.
Good night.
I'm in the wrong state. Seriously, I was not built for this.
The only relief comes in the early mornings and with the afternoon storms. Any other time of day, you melt.
I shouldn't need to take a shower every time I have to be outside. I mean, how many times can I sweat through my clothes before I'm expected to change them?
The answer is one. And, that goes for everyone else. Whether anyone is actually doing that… well, I doubt it.

I feel good about my caregiving until I take my dad to his doctor. Then it feels like I’m not really doing anything to help him.
No, I shouldn’t be a caregiver. I have multiple diagnoses that confirm that. I’m still going to help to the best of my abilities, though, because no one else is coming to the rescue.
So I installed Glean, a self‑hosted feed reader, and I think it has the best approach to handling Read Later items I’ve seen yet. There’s an auto‑cleanup option that removes entries after 1 day, 7 days, or 30 days. You can also set items to never expire if that’s what you prefer. Additionally, the remaining time you have to read each entry is displayed right in the Read Later list.
These are powerful options, people.

Something a little strange happened to me last night. At around one in the morning, I felt what I thought was a wooden cane striking the middle of my head—one hard, hurtful blow. I sat up and looked at the other person in the room, and they were asleep.
I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and my forehead was bleeding. I wiped it off until I was satisfied it wouldn’t bleed anymore, then went back to bed.
I had no idea what the event was about until I looked beside the bed this morning. There was a large lighthouse decoration that had fallen off the table in front of my bed.
I suspect that, in my sleep, I might’ve pulled the sheet that covers the table the lighthouse sits on. I don't recall exactly where the lighthouse was positioned beforehand, but looking at the table from here, it was likely positioned directly to the side of my head a few feet up.
Whatever the case, the lighthouse has now been moved, and should not be involved in any more such incidents.
Let's hope not, anyway.
Yesterday was my birthday — the first one without a mother. She passed away in April, and things haven’t been the same since.
Still, it was a good day. My brothers gifted me a Lava Studio, a fancy guitar amplifier that does a million things. I’ve barely scratched the surface of what it can do, but I’m already impressed.
My niece made a cake, and it’s just like the ones Mom used to make. I can’t imagine a better cake, even though Mom preferred one my brother used to bring her from a store. I tried that one, and it wasn’t nearly as good. I really don’t know why she liked it so much.
Today is more caregiving, though I’m hoping for chances to use my new Lava Studio throughout the day. I certainly can’t use it as much as I’d like, but I can take baby steps and learn how to work it every now and then.