Last evening was the second consecutive one in which I had tuned in the same episode of Travelers for my younger brother and I to watch after he was home from wherever it was that he had been drinking, only to have him pass out during it.
So just as I had done the first evening, I cancelled out of the episode, switched off the T9 Android 8.1 TV Box, and left my unconscious brother with basic cable (he doesn't know how to operate the Android TV Box) and came here upstairs to my computer.
After a short while I went back downstairs and turned off the T.V., leaving my unconscious brother with the softly-playing stereo.
I will have nothing to do with him once he proves himself to be in this feeble-brained state.
I was in bed by 10:00 p.m., though sleep was elusive thereafter.
It was perhaps around 11:30 p.m. that my wife entered the bedroom after getting home from her long day working at her friend's Thai restaurant. I may have slipped into some sleep prior to then.
Anon she also came to bed.
I waited until maybe 12:45 a.m. and then carefully got up so that I could get started on the day's content assignment at the post I have in development at one of my six hosted websites.
To my considerable surprise a short while into that task, my wife mysteriously emerged from the bedroom and went downstairs briefly before coming back up, using the bathroom, and returning to bed.
No one else but me was up, yet she said nothing to me.
My work was to take me until at least 4:30 a.m. before I was back in bed for a little further sleep. I had not neglected to perform my daily six-minute plank during the time I had been up.
Actually, it was a 6½-minute plank. Rather than constantly looking at my cellphone's timer, I do a slow-count to 300, for that should bring me at least to the five-minute mark (i.e., 300 seconds are five minutes).
I usually deliberately count a little slower than the passage of actual seconds so that when I finally do check the timer, I will have surpassed the five-minute mark and it makes lasting until the six minutes somewhat easier psychologically.
Well, this time when I reached 300 and checked the time, I had already lasted just over six minutes and 20 seconds. As a consequence, I stuck it out until the 6½-minute mark.
It would have been a considerable strain, but I knew that I could have reached seven minutes...but why? I hope to get there on a daily basis within the reasonable future.
I still don't know just where I plan to take these daily planks ─ am I to build myself up until I am doing 10 minutes a day?
Believe it or not, that notion does have some play in my thinking. But we'll see.
I slept some more after getting back to bed, but I was awake enough after 7:00 a.m. to be checking the time. And when I did so again around 8:30 a.m., I decided to get up.
My brother usually gets up in time to tune in old Perry Mason episodes that are scheduled weekdays for 9:00 a.m., but this morning he never got himself up until well after 10:00 a.m.
My wife had risen earlier than usual ─ she was up no later than 9:15 a.m. in order to do some cooking for us before leaving for another day of work (she has an 11:00 a.m. start time, and a fair drive to get to the restaurant).
It was my plan to tune in that Travelers episode ─ damned if I was going to risk trying to watch it a third time in the evening. If my drunken brother passed out yet again, then I would only have to sit through its early portion on some fourth future occasion.
It proved to be a good episode, too ─ season two's episode 10 titled "21C" that reveals much of how it was that lovely blonde character Marcy had become brain damaged before she then became a host for a future "traveler."
My brother drinks himself into such insensibility that his brain cannot fathom T.V. shows that require focus and thought, and so it just shuts right down. That he persists in becoming this sort of drunkard is repugnant to me, and it is why I will have nothing to do with him in the evening if he lapses into unconsciousness.
However, I only enjoy a can or two of beer late in the evening when I am watching our T.V. shows. His excess drinking robs me of that opportunity; and this in turn makes me resentful of the drunkard that my younger brother becomes.
But we watched the episode late this morning; and then I summoned up the first of two movies his friend Greg had glowingly recommended.
Well, so much for Greg's opinion on movies!
It was a German war film ─ and yes, subtitled in English ─ based upon a genuine young soldier by the name of Willi Herold near the end of World War II.
The movie was titled The Captain, and I had expected that it was supposed to be something of a comedy. I was also expecting that the central character was going to be someone viewers would find themselves rooting for.
There was also supposed to be limited conversation that would require a minimum of subtitle-reading.
None of this was true.
The young solider was a power-mad and ruthless killer, and the movie only made me feel revulsion and even some despair. But I had no idea that it was based upon a historical figure. The plot seemed too farcically implausible that any young solider could pull off what the character in the movie did.
Even my brother had little compunction to sit through the full near-two hours. He was laundering, and twice got up for an extended period of time to deal with it.
I think he even went and evacuated his bowels at one point, and he also had one or two micturition breaks ─ he was drinking a lot of coffee.
I will admit that the movie capably held enough sufficient interest to keep most people involved to its conclusion; but there is no way that I would ever recommend it to anybody like my brother's friend Greg apparently did to my brother.
Consequently...I am in no rush to sample the second recommendation. Maybe in a couple or so weeks.
The movie took us to past 1:30 p.m., so my brother sought some bedrest before freshening up and taking off for the afternoon.
I had some exercises scheduled for out in the backyard toolshed today, so I got those out of the way while he was resting.
It had become quite warm, although the sky was mostly hazed over or lightly clouded. The sunshine was to dominate by mid-afternoon, and I could have sat outside and benefitted from some sunning. But instead, I conducted myself waywardly from mid-afternoon until my eldest stepson arrived home from work.
He had actually phoned me a little earlier, pulling me from the outreached arms of some welcoming slumber that I was thereafter unable to close with again.
And so the waywardness ─ time lost, of course; but without much harm done, fortunately.
Even so...the day ain't done yet, is it?
Now that may be, but my evening is already well upon me ─ I have to bring this post to a close. I'll try and behave, though.
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