There has been, I note, a slight trend towards negativity in my recent posts. Winter cold and the resultant arthritic pain, coupled with the tiredness and loss of concentration caused by lack of quality sleep, along with the depressing memories occasioned by anniversary milestones make it look as if I go about my life in a depressed and morbid funk.  Not so dear reader.  I am writing honestly as I swore I would, and of course it is the extremes that drive us most to express ourselves.  The lows ganged up on the highs for a while.  But the great Mandela is turning.  I had a great ride to Albany and back yesterday, on a fine if chilly day.  At Hungry Jacks this guy comes up to me all nonchalant and knowledgeable about motorcycles, and says “an FSM eh? You don’t see many of those!”

“Indeed not”. I told him.  “It is a special edition”.

The point of the ride was to pick up a CPAP machine from the sleep clinic. I totally fell in love with the young lady who taught me how to use it.

Last night I had an interesting first night with my new sleeping companion, initial name assigned:  R2D2 ZZZ.

I would say a partial success but we still need to get to know each other a little better.

An 80% reduction in pee breaks suggests periods of improved restful sleep, despite a couple of awakenings possibly because I  dislodged  the mask.  On the other hand the weird dreams continue.  Last night I attended, along with all my old health inspector trainee companions from 1977, some kind of practical training session for something I did not quite understand, which involved assembling something electronic (the CPAP machine?) and it all somehow led me to volunteering to drive the bus home for the regular driver who had another appointment.  The problem was I did not know the bus route and had no change for the passengers.  I got so late on the route the company  decided the bus had been stolen and sent another to pick up the passengers.  I actually welcomed the sound of the morning alarm.  That alone is a telling point.

Best of all right now I do NOT actually feel as if I would prefer to crawl back into bed.


About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
This entry was posted in Apnoea, Autobiography, Depression, Health and wellness, Humour, Life, don't talk to me about life!, Organizations, Pastafarianism, Philosophy, Photography, Political Correctness, quandaries and Dilemmas, Religion and Superstition, Riding and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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