Now it's 20 to 1 and I'm falling asleep. Heh. Well, I've been up for 8 hours already.
Doesn't help that I had strange dreams.
In one part of the dream, John Denver was getting paid for some song or another--and not paid much, a few dollars--and one of the papers he discarded contained a song written by (I presume) Rogers & Hammerstein, that they'd rejected doing anything with because it wasn't any good. It was a variation on "Deck the Halls", and Danny Kaye and I were trying to sing it, but it wasn't very sing-able.
...so he rewrote the lyrics, and it turned into a funeral dirge or something. "The one you love has departed," sang the chorus--or something like that--and I was trying to figure out WTF that had to do with Christmas, and no wonder R&H decided the damn song was no good....
Anyway, Mom was playing Bridge in Dad's room with some women I didn't recognize, and she tearfully told me that "it all ends on the 17th!"
I woke up from that dream--I think it was about 11:30 last night--and went outside to see what the weather was like, because it had been too unsettling for me just to turn over and go back to sleep.
I'm really hoping that it was just a dumb dream, and I didn't suddenly become prophetic or something; if "it all ends" this coming Wednesday I'm going to be pretty pissed off at myself: Why didn't you get this ability sooner, so you could have won the damn Powerball or something??
Also, "I passed my motorcycle class! I don't have my license yet and the world's over! Hooray!"
...but before I went to bed last night I was thinking about the fact that August 17 is the beginning of Endless Eight. (Well--actually, it's not, since my my reckoning "Endless Eight" takes place in 2003, but bear with me.) So that probably has something to do with my subconscious' selection of August 17 as the day everything is over. *sigh*
But I fell asleep pretty readily after that, and got up this morning, had breakfast, shaved and showered, and went to church, all without any further premonitions of apocalypse.
Besides, last night as I was falling asleep--before all this--I was suddenly struck with a sense of optimism, that things are going to start improving soon. So WTF, brain?
* * *
Cloudy and cool today: 73, with a dewpoint of 68; believe me, this is pretty damn nice. I like it.
* * *
My back seems to get better if I massage the affected area with a knuckle or fingertips, shiatsu-style. I'm starting to think "pinched nerve and/or muscle spasm" since the area is off to the side of the spinal column and massage helps. I think if it were a problem with my spine, massage wouldn't help.
Then again, I don't know much about the spine.
Same as last December, it hurts to walk; it doesn't hurt to sit (especially in my fancy new chair) or lie down.
* * *
...so I haven't got anything earth-shaking to talk about, nor do I have the energy to bloviate about some peripheral issue. All this means one basic thing: