Slow motion...

It's truly in the middle of the night, there's no doubt about it. It's not even close to dawn. In a way that's good because it will allow me enough time to go back to bed and sleep long enough before the Exfactor gets here. I won't be completely befuddled when he gets here, although it doesn't matter so much in his case if I am. He is very patient with me and allows me time to wake up properly without me having to be all artificially cheerful. It's a much kinder process of waking up. 

I will try to be up on time before he gets here anyway and have the coffee ready. We are both always ready for a cup because a lot of times the Exfactor only drinks tea in the morning at his place and I'm convinced that it doesn't give him a proper start to the day. He really seems to come alive after he's had a cup of coffee here. That's because he drinks things like mint tea with sugar which leave him dopey. 

I'm drinking coffee now in an attempt not to be too sleepy headed and to be able to finish this post before I go back to bed. I've made just a little pot of it so I won't drink too much. There is always cold milk. I do need something to keep the slumber at bay for now. I would fall instantly asleep behind the keyboard if I didn't. It wouldn't do to have a row of letters imprinted on my forehead. 

It's not bad being in this half awake state. It's actually kind of pleasant. I feel as though I'm slightly drugged and better able to express my feelings, although they are all tenuous and hardly of any consequence at all. They are strictly nighttime feelings of made of ethereal stuff. Like fluffs of stardust and just as lightweight. There's not a heavyweight thought among them. 

I would always like to exist in this state of mind, somewhere in limbo I suppose. Neither here nor there. Somewhat approachable yet not quite present in my own elusive way; in a dreamy state of mind. It's a much more relaxed way of being.

I can't keep existing here. Reality pulls me back and has me return to the present situation which is that I'll have to go back to bed and finish sleeping. Besides, the dog wants impossible things from me that I don't know how to fulfill. He's been out back and he's had a snack. I don't know what else to do. There's little escapism when you get right down to it. It's all of momentary nature. 

Right, I'm off to bed to sleep some more and perchance to dream. I actually have no doubt about that. I always do the second time around and the most interesting things too. 

Have a good morning.

Ciao,

Nora

Nothing but coffee...

It's in the middle of the night and nothing but this cup of coffee I just poured is going to set my head straight. It tastes good even though I used the ground coffee sparingly. I'm starting to run out and the Exfactor won't be here to do the groceries until tomorrow which is a day late. He didn't inform me of this until after he had gone to the store on Friday. I'm also almost out of milk so I have to be very frugal. I will miss my tall glasses of cold milk very much. 

The good part is that the laxative tea I drank this afternoon just worked and I unloaded a small dump truck full. What a relief to be finally able to go. I want to shout it from the rooftops and hang out the flag. That goes to show you what simple pleasures there can be in middle aged life. Such events take on enormous importance and can't be overrated. 

Yesterday I was in a grumpy mood. That may partly have been because I was woken up in the morning by my personal helper and never got the chance to properly come to my senses. She expected me to be immediately talkative, while I needed some peace and quiet and several cups of coffee. 

I do need the time to myself in the morning and can't immediately be sociable. It takes me a while to pull myself together and become a semblance of a human being. Quiet time first thing when I wake up is very important. Needless to say, I was not able to carry on a conversation in the state I found myself in and never did get my act together properly. 

After my personal helper left, the domestic help showed up and she wanted to be sociable as well. This caused me to have to be more friendly than I felt. I didn't feel sociable at all. I did my best, but finally withdrew to the bedroom where I fell sound asleep on the bed with the dog. Falling asleep is my reaction to stress. 

It makes me appreciate the time on my own all the more. If I could always choose when I saw people it wouldn't be as bad, but that's not always the case. They do come whether or not I'm ready for them. I'm not in charge of my agenda. 

Today I have a day off from social obligations. I have no appointments like I often do on Tuesdays. The day will be mine to spend as I wish. There will be no intrusions. 

I'm going to start by going back to bed and finishing sleeping for as long as I can. At least I know I won't be woken up prematurely. It will be a wonderful thing. I like only having to deal with the animals when I wake up. They are enough company for me. A few words and a few cuddles are all that they need. 

Have a good day.

Ciao,

Nora

Who I am and what I do...

I was slowly waking up and lying in bed with my eyes closed and the first thought that crossed my mind was, "Who are you?" I thought that was too deep a question to have in the middle of the night and I could not answer it. I dismissed it quickly from my mind and got up to let the dog out. That was a less cerebral activity for me to take care of rather than think existential thoughts. 

I put on my bathrobe and made a pot of coffee. I turned on the computer and answered emails and read other people's blogs. The whole time I did that, I ignored that thought I'd had when I first started waking up. Now that I'm done with all those activities it's begging to be answered, but I'm loathe to answer it because how can I? 

How can I say who I am in a few easy sentences? I'm either going to have to dismiss the question all together or write an autobiography and that's way too much work. I don't know why I had that thought in the first place and what an odd one to have first thing when you still have your eyes closed and your mind starts to wake up.

I suppose I found myself alone in my bed and became aware of my solitariness as a human being in the great world. I realized I was just a tiny little cog in a very large machine and that I counted for hardly anything at all. I must have thought this in a split second in the darkness before I opened my eyes. I guess I felt my aloneness as all human beings eventually feel theirs.

I thought you didn't feel that until your dying hour and I suppose I felt it prematurely for some reason. I don't know if I had a dream just before it. I don't remember one. All I remember is darkness and silence, as if I had been out in the universe where someone had forgotten to turn the stars on.

Do we have to say who we are after we die? Is there a question that we have to answer? Do we have to say that we were the best possible human being we could have been? What if we chastise ourselves for all the things we didn't do? Are we forgiven?

I'm still discovering who I am, although I have a strong suspicion that I knew who I was a long time ago before life got a hold of me and filled me with my neuroses. Add some deep seated psychological pain and you've got the end product. Well, not the end product. It isn't over until the fat lady sings and she's nowhere in sight. I'll go listen to her aria at the very end. Until that time I've got a lot of work to do. 

I hope you all are having a good night. I'm going to sleep some more shortly. I hope I don't get anymore existential questions. One of those every now and then is enough, although it does give you food for thought. That's not too bad. 

Ciao,

Nora