The good part is that you look different. People comment and say that your skin looks smoother; that you look prettier. I do find myself looking in the mirror and thinking, “You look GOOOOOOOOD!”
The bad part is that sleep is like a drug. Now that I am getting more of it, my body does not want to return to the thrilling days of yesteryear (or at least last month), when I was fully functional (if a bit shaky) on three hours of sleep a night. I started slowing down at 10:30 this evening. It’s only 1:00 now, and I’m done.
I still have no Internet. I really need to just splash out and get it. Tomorrow, though, I’m going to try stopping at Whitmore Library and using the wi-fi there so I can get this posted.
OK! I'm at Whitmore, huddled in a scrap of sidewalk shade behind a trash can. The library doesn't open until 10! 10! Crimeny. I can kind of see the monitor - mostly I can see the dust on the monitor and not much behind it, so pardon my spelling.
I am hanging in there and so glad that I still have some readers. Thanks, friends! I will try to find a way to post every day again. I have a lot to say, but since I have't been posting each day, I'm log-jammed. Let me set my little mental lumber-jack loose here and see if I am more limber tonight. At the moment, my butt is cold from the sidewalk.
That reminds me of a poster my friend Julia was describing to me. There are two chocolate Easter bunnies on it. One has had its ears eaten off; the other has a missing tail. One has a thought-bubble that says, "Man! My butt hurts!" The other says, "WHAT?"
My butt hurts.