I cannot recall my exact bedtime last evening, but it was surely before 11 p.m. Thereafter I do recall hearing my wife talking, so she had come home a little later.
Tired as I had grown over the evening, that state abandoned me once I was in bed, and I had to make considerable effort to cultivate the inner serenity that would allow of sleep.
I had been feeling slightly 'off' physically yesterday. When my 3:30 a.m. alarm chimed to get me up to ready for my walk to the elementary school playground maybe three blocks from here, I was keen enough, but still not feeling my normal. As well, my eyes were rather burning, and both ears affected with some blockage.
No one else was up, fortunately. At very most it was 3:56 a.m. once I was outside and on my way. All was wet from the rain that had been extant when I had retired, but that had apparently ceased some while earlier.
My left foot's plantar fasciitis (or whatever else is similarly amiss with it) was quickly apparent. Just that ¾ of a mile round trip has left me today with renewed lameness, forcing me to hobble about here at home in my bare feet. What the ๐ป๐๐ธ๐ do I need to do to get over this liability?! It has been afflicting me since at least November 27.
I had hoped to be able to get out this evening for a little grocery shopping relatively nearby, but that does not seem possible now.
But returning to my early a.m. walk, at the school playground I of course needed to wipe a couple of the jungle gym monkey bars dry enough to use. Possibly buoyed psychologically by having earlier weighed myself fully clothed and in jacket and boots, and discovering that at worst I might have just barely topped 185 pounds, I actually fared rather well in the opening two sets of pull-ups: 6-3. I had my usual two sets of chin-ups next (3-3), and then two sets of pull-ups between a pair of gymnastics-style rings (2-2).
In returning to the monkey bars for a loose hang from two of them, I first performed two pull-ups between those bars, and then held a hang at completion of the second pull-up for a 50-count, but it was no breeze.
Apart from the expected strain, as early as having finished that first pair of sets of pull-ups, I struggled to catch enough breath. My lungs were just not up to that task. My breathing was so laboured that at my age of 75, I began wondering if I might be verging on incurring something like a heart attack.
Even that dead loose hang was complicating because it seemed to be compressing my upper torso and thus restricting my lungs and even my heart.
As I mosied over towards the cement ramp for the finishing set of 10 slow full-range decline push-ups, I considered just skipping them due to my breathlessness, but I could not.
I obviously survived. But I headed for home after the push-ups with mouth wide open to gulp air, and my face in what would have been an expression of sheer anguish.
As I type all of this in the early evening, I am feeling almost a renewal of the food poisoning or whatever overwhelmed me around this time Saturday evening. That sense has been building all afternoon. My appetite is not very good at all, either.
Something is definitely not right with me. Tomorrow is mortgage day, and I have $1,175 and change in my account. The fortnightly mortgage debit is $862.50.
I don't know what the Hell is going on with my stingy two stepsons, but the youngest last contributed $200 on December 18, while I think the eldest ─ who earns more than I ever dreamed of doing even at the end of my working life ─ may have contributed $180 December 30. So, in a month's time, $380 from them both.
Meantime their mother has bled me for far over $1,000 in that time.
I have wanted to buy a decent pair of boots, but now I find myself questioning how on Earth I am going to make two credit card payments totalling $700, $450 of which are due to my wife but which she has shirked because my name is on the two cards and thus she is not directly liable legally.
I feel so damned alone.
I'm feeling sicker as I type this. I think I am going to have to lie down, even though I would just like to retire relatively early this evening with no intention of an early arisal like this morning.
I want to finish my discussion of the morning before I close this post, however.
I was back to bed ahead of 6 a.m., and probably acquired about 2½ hours of further bed time. Whenever it was that I rose, I had barely done so before my younger brother emerged from his bedroom to go downstairs to watch T.V.
I joined him a little past 9 a.m., and quickly enough got his invitation to put our Android TV Box to work.
I wanted him to watch a terrific short (1:22) video uploaded January 6 to YouTube's Danny Polishchuk channel: What Justin Trudeau's Resignation Speech Should Have Been.
Accurate satire at its best!
Then it was a two-part superb documentary concerning World War II ─ the two videos had been uploaded on September 23 and 24 respectively, 2016, to YouTube's Real Stories channel:
- World War 2: 1941 And The Man Of Steel | Part 1 (WW2 Documentary) | Real Stories (45:47)
- World War 2: 1941 And The Man Of Steel | Part 2 (WW2 Documentary) | Real Stories (45:18)
Historian Professor David Reynolds reassesses Stalin’s role in the life and death struggle between Germany and Russia in World War Two, which he argues was ultimately more critical for British survival than ‘Our Finest Hour’ in the Battle of Britain itself
After that we finished with an hour-long video published January 6 (but recorded January 2) to BitChute's ManInAmerica channel: How False Flags and Psyops Enslave America Through Fear w/ Chad Prather.
Join me for an important discussion with Chad Prather.Show more Watch Chad: www.WatchChad.com
I certainly would not say that the discussion showed anything at all of what the show title proclaimed ─ it was just two men having a chat about what's been going on.
My brother went for his bed rest at the show's conclusion, for he would be busing away to engage his daily social drinking.
I didn't feel much like eating, so I sought a nap during the noon hour. Possibly I was down for 2½ hours or more, during which time my brother had left.
I think that I shall say no more here today. It is 7:03 p.m. ─ maybe I will watch a little T.V. to try and delay my return to bed, for a mere nap would be most foolish where a later bedtime would be concerned.
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