Tell Me a Story: Missed Morgendämmerung

I’m used to waking with the dawn. I’m totally cool with this too. The colors of the sky, the clouds, the utterly transcendent peace at daybreak is, to my mind, unmatched. Just before the sun peeps over the waterline is the bestest, most hopeful time of day. Dawn doesn’t promise so much as suggest that anything could happen and it could all, conceivably, be damn lovely.

In mid-July, here on the Neck, first light is at 4:47 am. The sun’s all I'm here, I'm up so, WAKEY-WAKEY you sleepy slags at 5:21 am.

When’d I rise this morning? Seven. Yeah, I haven’t slept that late in yonks.

I attribute the late rising to the week’s emotionally charged, tense surgery, recovery struggles and worries (latest – I seem to have a spinal fluid leak. ‘the fuck! Can I just call a plumber in or do I need a medic?), my doc’s exercise ban (until mid next week!!!) and a Saturday social time where I just could NOT read my dear friend’s lips. I always feel like a colossal, weak-ass, fuck-up, disappoint to all, particularly meself, when my lipreading-foo fails to make an appearance.

The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep.
~ E. Joseph Cossman

And when you can’t make it through an intact eight of glorious Z-dom, a rock solid oversleep is a wonder and a treat.

O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?
~ William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I

Last night I, once again, woke at zero dark thirty with post surgery eye itchies and a distinct malaise over our international embarrassment – the Putin pandering bunglecunt and his slavering fascist Republican (I believe that’s now redundant) henchman.

With an extended run of deep breathing exercises, I was able to drop back into Slumberville. Yea me!

It is a common experience that a problem difficult at night is resolved in the morning after the committee of sleep has worked on it.
~ John Steinbeck

More or less. Jen will attempt contact with my doc this morning. It’s Sunday so she might not reach her but she can, at the least, leave a stern THIS IS SERIOUS. CALL ME! message. The spinal fluid leakage may not actually be all that serious (yes, Jen and I googled the shit outta this) BUT I wanna hear/read that from an actual med pro who’s familiar with my wonky-ass bod.