I was to bed ahead of 9 p.m. last evening ─maybe seven or eight minutes. My younger brother was still not back from wherever he had gone to drink that afternoon, and I had no intention of becoming involved with him for any late T.V.-watching.
We have an enormous number of T.V. series that we follow, and for which sources are located through various 'apps' that I have downloaded into the Android TV Box that only I have the skill here to operate.
So if my brother is not home by 8:30 p.m., I will not involve myself with him ─ he will probably be too drunk to remain conscious anyway, and I will only have to rewatch whatever episode it is that he passes out during.
Anyway, it was too hot to easily sleep ─ especially that early in the evening. I lay atop my bed wearing just my undershorts, and did my best to relax.
Some sleep would come and quickly go again. But ultimately ─ perhaps around 1:20 a.m. ─ I checked the time and decided to rise and soon get busy adding more content into the post I am slowly constructing at one of my six hosted websites.
It was nearing 5:10 a.m. before I was back to my bed.
And I doubt that it was too very much beyond 8:30 a.m. when I was too awake to feel able to easily sleep further.
My brother was already downstairs watching T.V., but I waited until around 10 a.m. before joining him.
Among the shows we were to watch was the series finale of Falling Water. When we watched it, the assumption was that there was to be another season, but I was suspicious and later researched the truth ─ the show was dumped with no explanation offered to resolve the storyline.
I am not going to mention this to my brother. Ultimately, he will forget about the show and likely wonder no more on it. But at least I can now replace the series with another that he has been unable to remain conscious and follow in the evening when his beer-drenched brain cannot achieve focus any longer: Channel Zero.
I had to give up on the series when he passed out during the fourth episode of the first season, so I will commence our viewing with that episode this coming Monday or Tuesday morning when he is sober.
The morning today was overcast, by the way. And just after mid-morning, we even had some short-lived rain. However, by the afternoon, the Sun and heat were back.
Nevertheless, it was a sufficient mix of cloud and Sun in the early afternoon that I felt clear of conscience in seeking a nap while my brother was still in his bedroom having his own bed rest. He was gone for the afternoon when I re-emerged from my bedroom.
I actually felt quite dreadful ─ the nap had witnessed quite a decline in me. But even so, I wanted to gain some benefit from the sunshine that was then prevailing, so attired in just a pair of gym-style shorts, at 3:48 p.m. I began just over 40 minutes sunning my front while I lounged low in a deck- or lawn-chair out on the backyard grass, all the while facing into the Sun.
I want to mention that I have not heard from my wife since the fiasco last afternoon when she texted me from wherever she is staying at Whistler, asking if she could withdraw $200 from my monthly pension income that had been deposited into our chequing account the day before.
She is at Whistler ─ and has been since Saturday ─ ostensibly to try her had at breaking into a new line of work. Her sole skill set has been that of a Thai restaurant worker thus far in her life, and we both want more for her.
She had claimed that she was going to use the $200 to make a payment toward a $468 GST debt that she mysteriously had.
I apprised her eldest son by making him privy to the sequence of texts, and he proclaimed that he did not believe her. Rather, he believed that she just wanted some further fun money.
He counselled that I should transfer most of my pension from the account into a different one where she could not access it.
And then I guess he related the matter to his younger brother, who has no compunction whatsoever about tearing strips into his mother over her profligate ways.
It seems he must have laid into her, for she texted me in consternation, demanding what I had told him, and that she had not withdrawn the money yet.
I texted back that I had not spoken with him ─ only his older brother. It was the older lad who unleashed the younger one.
Well, by my bedtime, she had still not touched my account, but I have not heard a word from her since that final text of hers. No doubt, she is deeply smarting and probably feeling that we are all aligned against her.
But it lays waste to me within that I cannot wholly support my wife, for I only have my limited retirement pension income to live on.
In weakness, I allowed her to plunge us deeply into debt over the past dozen years. I retired in early April 2011, but she must still work.
I don't want to talk about this.
It is well past 6:30 p.m., and I have some exercising to do yet; and I also want to have a bath. If my brother is not home by 8:30 p.m., I wish to have my path cleared this evening to again seek an early bedtime.
I am hurting. I would love to kill the sensation with some drink, but I must exercise instead.
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