With yet another early evening behind me yesterday (having retired just after 9 p.m.), I managed to drift in and out of sleep until something like 1:18 a.m. when I made my first check of the time and rose to come here to my computer to involve myself in some work.
My wife ─ who had left quite early that evening, declaring that she was headed off once more to the Thai restaurant where she works ─ had not yet returned.
When I finally returned to bed a few minutes past 5 a.m., I concluded that she must be overnighting elsewhere, for she regularly parties a lot at the home of her friend / employer (a younger married Thai woman).
However, about 10 minutes after I was into bed, I realized that my wife was now in the house, and wasting little time in getting herself to bed ─ she had her first physiotherapy appointment scheduled for (the latter?) noon hour, a treatment relating to a recent incident in which her car was rear-ended by another vehicle while my wife's car was stopped at a red light.
As is unfortunately customary for me, I again drifted in and out of sleep until 8 a.m. when I checked the time and decided I should probably rise. However, it took me nearly 20 minutes to become galvanized enough to actually perform that deed.
My younger brother had not yet emerged from his bedroom for the morning, but he soon enough did.
And at 10 p.m., I went downstairs to join him at the T.V. to put our Android TV Box into operation. I had in mind a Polish movie ─ 2015's The Lure.
I had not before realized that it was a musical; and within its first five minutes, my brother sarcastically volunteered, "It's not doing anything for me." That was a slight directed at me, for he made the announcement as he rose and went into the kitchen for five or so minutes.
Nevertheless, when he returned to his chair, he did sit through almost the entirety of the rest of the movie, only rising once again very late in the movie to disappear upstairs to his bedroom for another five or so minutes, thereby losing all connection to the movie because he missed the scene where one of the mermaid sisters revealed herself unable to kill her former boyfriend as they danced following a late night of celebrating at his wedding. Day dawned, and she dissolved into sea foam just as had been foretold.
My brother returned in time to witness the other sister attack and kill the young groom, but I am sure he had no idea why, and I was not going to bother educating him. If he didn't have the sense to remain for the conclusion, then so be it ─ the loss was his.
He can be most irritating. He'll bitch about a show being no good whatsoever, yet he vacates himself and sometimes misses enormous segments of these features. And I incur the benefit of his ill nature as if it was I who actually produced the film or T.V. episode.
It has come to the point that I immediately feel my ire at him soar, but I struggle to hold my tongue and keep possession of my mounting rage. Bad productions ─ if such they are ─ should be held in the same esteem as once might have for an uninspiring book one has read. The work is not lost ─ everything contributes to our experience of the world, whether or not we immediately understand this to be so.
I would hope that in his 68 years of living, that he had some sense of this, but he seems determined to be a philistine to the end of his days.
Even so, as I did say, he sat through most of the movie; but I know that it was only because so much of it was rather titillating. The mermaid sisters were often fully naked ─ and with full frontal nudity, to boot. The two actresses portraying them were undeniably lovely young creatures. In fact, I would like to see other movies and T.V. series each of them was involved in. Unfortunately, there is far too much out there in English for me to ever possibly keep up with ─ I can't see myself finding room to squeeze in Polish productions, even if I can find sources for them.
Anyway, my wife was able to rise late in the morning on her own, and successfully get away well ahead of time to keep her appointment. She had one or more other errands that she discharged first.
When she returned, it was with a good report. She liked the physiotherapist, a fairly young chap named Tandeep Grewal. Now, depending on how ICBC treats of my wife's therapy, she is scheduled for treatments twice a week.
She went out again for awhile in the afternoon, and I was able to cop a nap before her return. I reported yesterday in this blog my horrendous experience with a niacin flush Saturday afternoon after taking a 500-mg tablet of the vitamin with a mid-afternoon meal. Well, just prior to my nap, I had another meal with part of one of those same tablets ─ I had cut the tablet into three pieces.
Following my nap, I began experiencing the tell-tale flush once again, but it never ballooned into the agony of Saturday's torture. Consequently, I will limit myself to taking just a third of a tablet at any one time from this point on.
I am going to bring this post to a close now, since my wife is indeed home, although busy in the kitchen cooking for us all. As nice as it can be to have her around when she is in a good mood, it dramatically restricts my fitness routine, for I can not engage any of the exercising that I might otherwise have assumed within our bedroom.
And of course, it also hampers my ability to blog comprehensively or work on one of my two remaining websites.
Now the question is: Does she have the full day off work tomorrow, too? And if so, will she remain home?
I can but wait and see.
At least having her present does not prevent me from getting to bed early whenever my younger brother is not home by 8:30 p.m. from wherever he has been drinking. She is well familiar with my desire to avoid his drunken company for the evening at the T.V., since I am the only one of us who can operate our Android TV Box.
Fortunately he can amuse himself with my youngest stepson's Netflix Canada account, and thus is not entirely restricted to settling for whatever basic cable programming he can find on the T.V.
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