I bought a timer lid for prescription bottles. Reason? I slept from 5:30 pm to 2:30 am, and didn’t get up til 4:45 am. I’m allowed so many “calm down” pills a day, and I’m pretty good about spacing them out, no matter how bad the anxiety is – better sometimes than others, of course. Usual mitigating circumstances and all that. But I think I must have taken a dose too close to the previous dose.
I wasn’t just my “I’ve eaten and I’m going to sleep” I mean I was out of it. Which I am, again, grateful for the body-repairing nature of such sleep. But, there is a price: sleepiheadedness (bed head, and we ain’t talking the hair I have left), swelling of face and fingers – especially right side (this is an issue), and stiff right side because I don’t move out of
my fetal sleeping position much. (Oops, too much info).
Made it to the post office to send a belated b’day card to a friend, and a present and encouragement to my s-in-s who isn’t doing well.
Won’t mention the peppermint, choco-chip milk shake I had but wasn’t going to have while I was out. Maybe that’s the real secret to sleeping 8 hours.
Self-like: hummm. Cogs turning. Brain reeling. It’s a compensation, really because I don’t call often enough, nor go over, but I do send my s-in-s cards/notes regularly, how very 19th century of me, and sometimes small gifts.
She calls me when I’m least capable of listening. And, when I call on a later date, she doesn’t answer because she’s the same.
When I send a card/gift, I don’t expect the person to do the same back. It’s up to them. Funny, tho, certain emails and messages I DO expect an answer to.
That’s me, contrarian to the end.
@ taleweavering/phylor 2016