I awoke this morning feeling exhausted. Since my ‘breakdown,’ I’ve been waking often—in fact, very, very often—filled with the emotion of a dream. I often can’t remember much of the dream but I seem to wake in the emotional state possessing me in the dream—nearly always, anxiety; my emotional dream hangovers take up to fifteen minutes to dissipate.
Thursday was fabulous. I read often, went to Jay’s to get his mail and I baked. I didn’t do any crafting at all. It was really a lovely relaxing day. And today will be just like it. Today is our fourteenth day in a row without any precipitation. It’s been wonderful to walk Sheba and not have to come home and wash her undercarriage. It’s due to change tomorrow.
The nicest thing about yesterday was my time with Fred. He’s been creeping onto the bed at night to sleep on my legs; last evening as I watched TV, he draped his long sturdy body next to my thigh as I watched Magritte on PBS. He loves attention, and so I enjoyed over half-an-hour of loving affection from me that generated the loudest purring I’ve heard yet from him.
Coming home from the dog walk this morning, five people waved to me from their cars, yards or roadside. Such good luck made me hope that by the time I passed Kevin’s house, he’d be waving, naked, from his porch. (Didn’t happen.)
When I got home, I got a drink, some toast and slouched into the sofa to read more about Major Pettigrew as the clouds rolled in. By 2:00 pm, it was feeling close to disk it got so gloomy dark, so I fed the fire and I’ll keep reading because my wrist is too sore right now to do crafts.