Know what happens when you hang out with pain meds for about a month, don’t leave the house, and really forget any semblance of a regular routine?
You forget what day it is. A lot.
Thanks to everyone for the warm wishes and virtual check-ins from near and far. I’m lucky to have such sweet people present in my life. After sleeping off the anesthesia hangover, and then being rewarded with AWAKENESS until 2am this morning, it appears this round of injections is working as it should and life, as I know it, should return next week. My plans to return to the gym on Wednesday and get in some sort of salon chair on Thursday should help you understand PRIORITIES, MAN.
2am is an interesting time. Another lifetime ago, it used to look like this, but those days are long gone. It’s funny, thinking about those baby days with Benjamin. The clock is odd. I’ve only got 6 more years with Leah, but 11 with Benjamin. She’s leaving tomorrow, he will be here forever – until I blink and he isn’t.
Anyway, at 2am, most folks are asleep, except for the west coast night owls; the UK is starting their day; and my house is completely quiet. I fill my time skipping around the internet, under the covers, quietly listening to music sans earphones thanks to Husband’s CPAP machine’s white noise.
I stumble onto blogs I’ve missed reading because life got in the way, I catch up on friends’ lives on Facebook, or Twitter, or Instagram, wonder what others are doing behind passwords and boundaries, and drift in and out of books I’ve started or finished just because a character has gotten under my skin.
I try not to “what if” too much, although I could medal in that event. I make lists that never get written down in the dark, so barely any of those things get accomplished – and I’m okay with that. I figure if I had the brainpower, and the item had urgency and importance, it’ll show up again.
Eventually my body catches up with the clock and eyelids grow heavy, phones get put away, and cautious stretches on soft sheets help to arrange things so that my day can finally end – or begin again, I guess.
Here’s to getting back on schedule, wanderings, and to you. Thanks for helping me pass the time – and for coming to visit at the very late ends of your days. Maybe one day our paths will virtually cross at 2am.
I’ll be the one in jammies.
Have a wonderful weekend — xo