If Dogs Run Free

This has been an exceptionally low day for me ─ truly so.

I rose around 5:30 a.m., expecting later to make the half-mile walk to the nearest grocery market, but the store doesn't open until 8 a.m. and by 7:45 a.m when I would have left it was and had been brilliantly sunny.

As well, a house one down and across the street had some manner of party ─ it often does ─ still in effect, with their enclosed garage wide open where the event was taking place.

I am fanatic about my privacy and anonymity. Compounding everything was that my facial appearance looked ... well, bad. I have grown pale from want of sustained sunshine, and my naturally poor complexion was highlighted because of this.

I resigned in defeat, crushed. Yet again, I would be going nowhere.

Anon the morning grew heavily overcast, but that was mid-morning. By midday though, it became markedly sunny and that only increased until the late afternoon was Summer bright.

I thought maybe later I might get out in the afternoon if my brother decided to drive off for a beer restock, but he did not. By then, however, I no longer would have gone ─ I burned out.

I did have an early token backyard tool shed exercise session, as spoken of in the past several posts (2-1-2-1-1-1) ─ those were my repetition totals for two sets each of pull-ups, chin-ups, and pull-ups between a pair of bars.

I held the notion of a possible evening outing after dark to shop, but that store closes at 10 p.m., and with the sunshine we are getting, it's still going to be light after 9 p.m., and I cannot be public in my state.

My brother never emerged from his bedroom this morning until close to 10:30 a.m., by which time I had been watching nothing of import on T.V. via our Android TV Box. With his joining of me, I then tuned in A Touch of Frost. It was episode one ─ "If Dogs Run Free (Part One)" ─ of season or series 15.

I knew we were nearing the series termination, but I did not realize until now that the next episode would be the last. I shall have to alert my brother tomorrow morning when he is sober ─ as usual, towards mid-afternoon he bused away to enable social drinking, and will return drunk, of course.

Somewhere around 11 - 11:15 a.m. while I was using the toilet, my wife burst forth from her bedroom ─ I had no idea she had come home last night!

I explained in yesterday's post her latest proposition for pumping up my exorbitant credit card debt, so I wished little involvement with her. Fortunately, she only wanted use of the toilet and went back to bed. She was scheduled to work the latter part of today and thus was to leave around mid-afternoon.

In reality, I shrank from her awhile later when she rose for the day, and she showed no indication of wishing brook with me ─ I cultivated that with my withdrawal. I even chose a poor early afternoon nap soon after she had risen for the day.

Basically, she and I had no conversation.

I badly waned in the early latter afternoon. I even returned to bed for over an hour after nearly breaking down emotionally over my woes for which God offers no resolution.

At rising towards the end of the afternoon, I wanted a drink, so here at my bedside computer I tuned in 9-1-1: Lone Star ─ episode five ("Thunderstruck") of season five. It and a can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol) certainly helped me, but it was a struggle to not take in more.

My source for the episode was this Tvids.net link, but it did throw up a new window for a gambling website, the window hiding behind the one I was using. So be warned.

At present it is 7:30 p.m., so I am going to take a break from this post to exercise my damaged right leg, and then I will watch another show and drink a bit further before reporting back here.

🞅🞅🞅

After the squatting work, I then tuned in Prodigal Son ─ as it happened the second season and series finale 13th episode ("The Last Weekend").

I wish that there was more ─ what was to befall everyone I grew so interested in?

This does suck.

Once more, my source was a Tvids.net link, and it threw up some sort of sex site on a new window that hid behind the one I was using.

When the show was done (and I had drank one further can of beer), I saw that my brother had gotten home ─ probably soon before 9 p.m.

Even though 10 p.m. has passed, I want to drink more and watch something else, but Bev is now shut up in their bedroom and I am at risk of being involved with my brother to watch shows with him. It is best I soon hie myself to bed.

Right now, 'tis 10:18 p.m., and I think that my wife is now home