The common notion is that the older we get, the less sleep we need. Well,
I don't know about need, but I certainly want more now than
I did when I was younger.
Perhaps this is because dream life is so much more interesting than waking
full moon in leo
Even though it isn't until Sunday, its effect is already apparent. There
is an extremely loony black man who stays at GovSanc2 every night, sitting
on a bench. He sometimes loudly rants, interspersed with maniacal
laughing. But on Thursday night, with that almost full moon overhead, he
went at it almost constantly. Fortunately, my little nook at the Dark
Corner is distant enough to keep his fits from waking me. Unfortunately,
now that I've again begun to relocate to a more secluded spot at GovSanc2
at four in the morning for a little more sleep, the loony does indeed make
it difficult. I even had a fastasy about owning a vaporizer which would
put him out of his misery for good.
(That horrible laugh is definitely not one of happiness, sounds
like something straight out of Stephen King or Dean Koontz.)
As usual, in the days immediately preceding Third Wednesday,
counting coins and calculating to think of much else.
"What is that?"
Two hesitant, half-teaspoon tastes.
Didn't pass the test evidently, although he eats tofu which I think
must be the most bland, tasteless foodstuff on the planet.
"Will they eat it?", indicating the flock of zebra doves which always
gather when someone is eating.
Not sure if he believed me, he flicked a little bit at them. They, of
course, ignored it.
"Cats will eat it, birds won't."
"Cats will eat it?" asked with a definite note of disbelief.
"Yes," I said, having known some cats who were quite fond of it.
Curious, providing a first introduction of cottage cheese to an adult man,
something which has been part of my life for longer than I can remember.
Oh joy. Three mornings of sleeping as late as I wish.
Well worth the price of an offline Monday.
A rather dull holiday weekend, Saturday and Sunday dominated by gloomy
gray sky although it remained dry until Sunday night when it rained so
hard most of the night that the noise often woke me. A very damp
beginning to Monday's Great Aloha Run when the shouting of the
hordes who gathered to run in the rain also kept me awake.
Without question, the highlight of the holiday came late Monday afternoon
when the Sleeptalker appeared at the mall and in an absurdly extravagant
gesture, I took him to the Mai Tai Bar where I drank Bloody Mary's,
he drank Heineken and ate a plate of ahi poke. The menu didn't
even say how much it cost ... "market price". If you have to ask, you
can't afford it.
Oh well, I'll wear the same trousers for another three weeks. No big
It's as close as it gets to overcoat weather here now. Of course, if I
had one, I'd be embarrassed to wear it during the daytime when so many
stoic people persist in the standard teeshirt and shorts costume. But
I'd surely welcome snuggling up in it during the night. Even the
Sleeptalker has weakened and is wearing a jacket.