It was well after midnight before I got to bed last night ─ that and the glass tumbler of Sommet Rouge wine (12% alcohol) on top of two cans of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol each) had me in bloody rough shape when my 6 a.m. alarm chimed this morning to get me up.
My idiot youngest stepson was only then showering prior to finally going to bed. Why does he do this whenever he is not facing a workday? He sits up all night at this computer, probably just playing one or another game with people.
This is not only physically unhealthy, but it is doing his mind no good either.
I ensured that I had an aspirin with the strong mug of hot instant coffee I fixed up for myself, hoping I would recover enough to do the planned grocery shopping at No Frills approximately half a mile distant that opens at 8 a.m.
There was to be absolutely no thought of any exercising ─ I was not going to jeopardize that shopping expedition by depleting myself to any degree.
I had heard that there might be some morning rain, but everything was dry outside ─ at least the sky was heavily grey. It made getting out easier to confront.
It was at least 8 a.m. before I left home, but I got the shopping done. And on my walk back home, there was actually the spitting of some rain.
Once I was back, it was a regular rain thoroughly wetting everything outdoors.
I had not heard my wife come home last night, but the evidence was that she had. I just hope that she is not drinking and making bad financial choices because of it. I am in no position to help her out if she spends money foolishly that should have gone towards bill payments such as any credit cards she may have.
She apparently had a full workday today at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, so she emerged from her bedroom around 9:40 a.m. to shower and so forth, and was away on her fairly long drive soon enough after 10 a.m.
At that point I was watching T.V. with my younger brother. Even though he did not emerge from his bedroom until after 9 a.m., I was occupied here at my bedside computer and had not bothered assuming control of the T.V.
It could have been near 9:30 a.m. when I did join him, expecting to soon be invited to begin operation of our Android TV Box.
But gradually time worked itself towards 10 a.m., and suddenly I realized that there was to be no morning shows being watched with him ─ he was going to watch NFL games.
So that was that.
I fixed up a breakfast primarily comprised of food prepared and provided by my wife, and brought it here to my bedside computer to eat while I otherwise enjoyed and passed time using this device.
The rain was only light and occasional, but the sky remained thickly gloomy all day. I plan an early a.m. visit to the elementary school playground tomorrow, so I don't know what to expect ─ perfectly dry equipment does not seem a reasonable expectation at all. The plan is to rise at 3 a.m. Should it be raining then, likely I would just have the walk to exercise my damaged right knee; and later I would deal with pull-ups and chin-ups in the backyard tool shed.
I forget if I managed to seek my nap earlier today ahead of noon, but I may have done so. I needed the nap.
Right now it is only 4:18 p.m., but I am going to take a break from this post for some light exercising in my wife's vacant bedroom, and then I may scrounge up some supper before watching a couple of shows here on my bedside computer to justify a couple of cans of beer.
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Since it was so dang early, I tuned in a Christmas movie despite not feeling much mood for one. I chose 2018's Christmas at Grand Valley.
And it began hitting me quite early.
I like Danica McKellar, the lead actress. I got really sweet on her back during her performances over the course of The Wonder Years, even though I had a quarter century on her.
She looked to be in very good physical condition in Christmas at Grand Valley, I am happy to report. I hope she has remained that way.
But yes, I began getting heavily affected with emotions early into the movie. With my can of Cariboo Malt wiped out after something better than a half hour, I resorted to a half glass tumbler of red wine.
Man, the tears flowed as I got caught up in "What if" and "Why can't it ever be?" in relation to my own life. It kills me inside that I will likely die unaccomplished, in a stagnant marriage, and debt-bound here in Surrey which I now despise due to its overpopulation and over-development, but where I have spent most of my life.
I had no intention of becoming plastered during this movie alone, and so early into my evening; thus after the wine I ate my supper as I watched the movie. This served to stabilize me, but it is also possible that I had my tears dry out. I was more detached during the final half of the movie.
My source for it was this OK.ru link.
And it was all over well ahead of 7 p.m. with Bev still on her own watching T.V. downstairs.
I took the time then to tackle the 15-or-so-minute job of brushing my teeth with coconut oil, and then hunted up one more show to watch.
It was 9-1-1: Lone Star ─ the entire series as well as season five finale episode 12 ("Homecoming"). My source was this GOOJARA.to link.
What an exceptionally exciting and dramatic episode! I just wish they had left out that useless rot about the "Tommy" character having these visits from her long-dead husband. This 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓉 just does not work on me and cheapens the realism the show should be seeking to create.
I have to admit that I got conned as to the fate of "Captain Owen Strand" after he barely lasted from his injuries to hit the "SCRAM" button to turn off the university's nuclear reactor.
My brother returned home during the episode.
Anyway, I have dawdled away too much time. It is presently 9:43 p.m. and I absolutely must get to bed.
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