Just as I finished publishing yesterday's post in this blog very little ahead of 8 p.m., I was about to go downstairs to quickly round up a small supper to dig into, and then be set to escape back upstairs as soon as I noticed my younger brother arriving home from wherever he had been drinking, when I heard him come into the house.
I was too late. I would be having just one meal that day ─ that of the mid-afternoon. And a late afternoon / early evening delicious hot caffeinated beverage that I had enjoyed was going to have to tide me over until this afternoon ─ for since beginning a regimen of intermittent fasting in the Summer, I take in no calories until after the midway point of the noon hour of any given day.
I was in bed at 8 p.m., but feeling so hard done-by in life where God is concerned that tears of loneliness and anguish flowed copiously.
However, I do not wish here to derail this post's proper narrative into that area of my life, so I will only say that it took a while to settle down so as to eventually submit myself into any sleep.
I would be rising in the early a.m. to come here to my computer to deal with a few tasks, so I was faced with spending something over four hours in bed ─ my brother generally watches T.V. until midnight.
I slept a little, and I recall checking the time around 10 p.m. and feeling somewhat satisfied that I was half way to my targetted hour. By this point, my emotions had stabilized and I was my normal self.
I continued seeking sleep, and resisted checking the time further until quite early into the midnight hour. I had just turned myself over in an effort to seek a more comfortable position to court some more sleep when the curiosity on the time had me check.
It was late enough ─ I could rise. Nevertheless, as I dressed, I heard my brother still downstairs, but readying to come up and to his bedroom. And when he did, I quietly exited my own bedroom. At least one of my two stepsons was still up ─ the eldest. He seems to commonly avail himself of the dining table once my brother goes to bed; the lad will sit there for a final pre-bedtime meal while he watches a movie or something on a laptop.
The night outside was quite wet, for I think that it lightly rained betimes.
I nursed the hope of getting out in the morning before my brother was up for the day ─ I wanted to visit the nearest government liquor store two miles from here which opens at 9:30 a.m. Since I do not drive, I would be walking.
Anyway, I would not have much hope of undertaking that chore without some further sleep, so around 3:30 a.m. or soon after I returned to bed, and I remained there until maybe 7 a.m. (again, "or soon thereafter").
I wanted to have an early bath. By this time, my youngest stepson was up ─ he would have to head off for work before mid-morning.
I had my bath, and then began whiling away some time. After all, I would not want to arrive too early to the liquor store and have to stand about outside like an anxious alcoholic.
The lying and misguided provincial political and health authourities recently mandated that the public have to wear face coverings whenever they enter places of business and even malls and shopping centres. I have thus far refused to even try a face mask on, and have only once worn a bandana like some old-time bandit.
But when I donned that specific accoutrement last Sunday to enter a major grocery store, it was only around 7 a.m. and thus still reasonably dark with few people about to witness me pulling the bandana up from my neck and setting it to best effect for venturing into the store.
This time, the day would be already busy, and on a Saturday there would be more people about than might have been so on a Sunday.
I had learned during that Sunday grocery shopping experience that a bandana is troublesome worn as I had mine. It kept working its way down my nose; and it drastically blocked my ability to see downward. I even found that my eyes were feeling strained.
So this morning I got busy trying to devise some better methodology.
And time began wearing away. Before I knew it, the time was already after 9:30 a.m. and my brother had been up for some while. It had become too late for me to make the trip, but I had persevered in trying to figure out how best to fit a bandana.
I had resorted to a different cloth ─ one that I had bought back in the 1990s that was designed (cut) to be used as a head wrap and knotted at the back of the skull.
This piece is slightly longer and made of absorbent cotton, and has some stretch to it that is lacking with the acetate or whatever constitutes my bandana.
So I think that I can make it work. Even so, I still do not care to be standing around in the broad day setting it into place. Compounding that discomfort is the fact that the day became remarkably sunny ─ at this time of year, I prefer as much gloom out there as possible when I must be abroad.
Fortunately, the liquor store's offerings are not something I immediately require. I just wanted to be done with the jaunt while I am still newly into my recently received monthly pension income.
All of the bother I put myself through this morning with the various fittings of the two types of bandanas actually strained my unwell eyes; and so at around 10:30 a.m., I returned to bed. This would also serve the purpose of helping with ushering along the passage of some time, for I was becoming most uncomfortably hungry.
I did nap, but when I was awake again and checking the time, it was only around 11:30 a.m. My intermittent fast had at least another hour to go.
As it was to turn out, I got myself involved in working on the post I am creating at one of my two hosted websites, and thus it was well past 1 p.m. before I finally went downstairs to make my day's first delicious hot caffeinated beverage ─ a sustaining treat that can comfortably forestall the need for a meal by a couple or more hours.
I was not to have an actual meal until around 3:30 p.m., by which time I had performed the day's minimum quota of exercise.
I should mention that my brother never did seek a nap today before heading out in the early afternoon, indicating that on his list of intended pursuits was a good walk somewhere to benefit from the unexpected sunshine. No such clemency was presented during the past week.
I never know if he will be home Saturday evenings, for he often remains with his girlfriend Bev and spends the night at her home. He may be doing so more regularly of late now that he likely realizes that he will only be coming home to drink and watch T.V. alone. I just cannot expect him to retain full consciousness any longer, so I do not place myself in a position wherein I will have to gamble on his state ─ I avoid him and have myself an early evening of it.
It is preferred over having to re-watch episodes of our T.V. shows that I have had to cancel out of because his brain folded up from drink and fatigue. I simply decided that I would not be doing that ever again ─ I have grown so fed up wasting my time re-watching shows for his benefit because he was unable to attend them all the way through the first time around.
Sometimes, though, I feel considerable guilt. He is 68 years old, and I am 71. We will not have one another's company for too many more years, I expect. Notwithstanding, it is he who chooses to become a daily drunkard. If he truly did wish to spend time with his elder brother, then all he need do is simply refrain from going out every afternoon to become drunk all over again.
His drinking buddies are more valued as company than am I.
At present as I type these words it is not yet 5 p.m., and I could benefit from another short nap. However, I will withhold, and perhaps tune in a Christmas movie and enjoy a can of strong (8% alcohol) beer or two.
By not napping this late into my afternoon, I ought to be able to more easily sleep once I get to bed early this evening. Very early tomorrow morning, I hope to undertake the (minimum) 5.625-mile round trip hike to do some grocery shopping ─ the store opens at 7 a.m., so I try to do my best to arrive as soon thereafter as I can.
I wish I had a real life, though. And friends ─ even just one near by to me. Heck, maybe even some easygoing female companionship ─ someone who actually enjoys having my company, and who maybe wants to be close with me physically.
I sure miss that ─ actual physical connection. Touching. Just close, physical proximity.
My wife is no longer interested in anything like that with me, and doesn't even spend her weekends at home. We haven't even shared a goodbye kiss in over a year. And physical intimacy? It's been over 7½ years.
Is it any wonder I become emotional and lonely in my pathetic old age when I retire to my bed all by myself? Or that I often start blubbering like an emotional wreck when I watch Christmas movies with a beer or two under my belt?
The course of my life is playing out, as far as I can tell. There is nothing more to live for, except my sense of responsibility to my wife and even to her two adult sons who still live here.
But enough of that ─ I haven't yet had a beer! I am going to close out of this post and do some research for a movie that I will watch downstairs on the T.V. via our Android TV Box and the 'apps' I have downloaded into it. They can't find every movie I may seek, but they are nonetheless a magnificent service for home entertainment.
May tomorrow be full and successful.
No comments:
Post a Comment