Humans and Intimacy

What a total difference between last night's sleep and that of the night before, despite getting over seven hours of bed time each night, and drinking the same amount of alcohol before bed.

Could the two buns (one Danish-like, the other a pork bun) that my youngest stepson brought me last evening be the cause of such a ruinous night last night? I had already had my day's last meal, so wolfing down these two items of virtually unknown total ingredients might have polluted me.

I got to sleep similarly both nights, but last night I hit excessive wakeful stretches and was over-warm in bed, even sweating a little. And I experienced lower leg cramping that I do not remember having undergone before ─ this wasn't calf cramping.

My right leg suffered the most ─ the cramping was only suggestive in my left leg. I suppose that it is likely tendon that lies above the outer ankle and runs vertically alongside the fibula for several inches before the swell of the calf begins.

If a tendon can cramp, then that is what began happening. The cramp wasn't painful like a calf cramp is, but it was extremely disconcerting and relentless, for I could not seem to consciously ease it. And then the entire part of my foot where the big toe and its main joint are just began to lift and relatively slowly draw towards my shin ─ it was so damned weird. I could feel this steady, inexorable elevation occurring, but could only interfere with it by using my other foot to apply pressure to resist it.

The inside of my foot was also responding to this deformation.

In some alarm, I wondered if it was going to make standing impossible, so I gingerly came to my feet from my bed ─ fortunately, this was a remedial action. My foot stabilized, as did the strange cramping of the tendon. I took the opportunity to walk to and use the toilet, then returned to bed.

There were thereafter some stirrings of this condition still manifesting, but ultimately they subsided and I got a little more sleep. When my 6 a.m. alarm sounded, however, I felt wretchedly ill-slept, and digestively 'burned out' ─ it was the sensation one has following having eaten overmuch long before, and the system is overtaxed from the strain of having had to deal with the burden.

My morning mug of coffee was exceptionally alluring, and I was very much looking forward to using the coffee to wash down an aspirin. But while I awaited the boiling of water, I lay on the chesterfield in the living room, easing an unusual amount of aching and stiffness.

I felt very much like I had a hangover and had sat up into the wee hours drinking, and then only gotten a few hours of sleep. But it was not so.

Incidentally, when my wife got home in the late evening yesterday, she appropriated my unbroached four-litre box of Sommet Rouge wine (12% alcohol), leaving me the half-done box of Vivo Reserva white wine (12½%) from Chile.

I must put greater effort into assuring that I do not again mistakenly buy a white wine and not the red that I favour. White simply lacks the body of a red wine. It's almost like drinking a strained orange juice instead of enjoying the thick, pulpy juice from a batch of freshly squeezed oranges.

Despite how crappy I initially felt this morning, I did normalize enough to bear having the usual backyard tool shed exercise session of a single repetition in each of six sets of pull-ups and chin-ups, followed by the squat work to strengthen the quadriceps muscles of my crippled right leg.

Overnight when I was awake, I heard it audibly begin raining ─ it was a tentative start but the drops had to have been enormous for when it is raining steadily a light rain, I do not even hear it. These initial drops were starkly clear patters that increased in concentration until we were having a downpour out there.

This alleviated all burden I had of needing to do any garden watering early this morning.

And a rather sunny day was ahead.

With my wife home ─ she was only scheduled to work the latter part of the day at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time ─ I opted not to yet begin this year's sunning.

My younger brother never emerged from his bedroom until 9:10 or 9:15 a.m., by which time I had our R69 Plus Android 14 TV Box in control of the T.V.

When he joined me, I began playing a 1½-hour video streamed two days ago to Rumble's The Shadoe Davis Show: April 30th/2026- W/Canadian Hero Jeff Evely!

Tonight: Our guest is Jeff Evely and we have much to discuss including: "trans" medical treatments on children, the MAYDAY Canada event next week in Ottawa, Walking in "the woods", and the general state of the world including what the hell is going on in the middle east and more. Gonna be a good one tonight people!

That was followed by a nine-minute (9:44) video uploaded October 5, 2022, to YouTube's History on Fleek channel: The UNREVEALED Nazi Treasures Of WW2.

During WWII, the Nazi’s march across Europe didn’t just attack the people and nations but also their culture and art. Most infamously, the Nazi plunder of property began in the 1930s with German Jews. However, the Nazi pillage of artworks and sculptures traveled the length and breadth of the continent and lasted till the very end of the war. The Nazis were infamous for their theft of gold and silver but their theft included ceramics, books, paintings, religious artifacts, and other culturally important items. Welcome to History on Fleek, today we examine mysteries of Nazi treasure unresolved to this day.

After that we did not quite get 50 minutes into a two-hour movie before my brother broke for further bed rest, so we'll be continuing with the movie tomorrow ... likely.

My midday time in bed for my nap was only around an hour.

My wife was not to leave for work until well after 3:30 p.m. By that time I had developed an eye-strain sort of headache, so when she did leave, I had no inclination to exercise in her bedroom, apart from some leg raises. I actually felt that if I tried anything strenuous, this headache pressure ─ even though not severe ─ could be problematic. When I was young, my thinking was more along the lines of pushing out the bad blood from my brain and infusing it with new and purifying fresh blood. But now at the age of 76, I am more inclined to be concerned of stroking out.

A naked weigh-in afterwards was a rather disappointing high of 182 pounds.

I have only had two mugs of coffee today ─ no food at all. I don't want to eat until after 6 p.m. But I do want to get at a little drinking, so I am going to start watching my usual three T.V. shows here on my bedside computer unusually early. Right now it is 4:16 p.m. as I take a blogging break ─ I will be into my first T.V. show very soon after the half hour.

⭐⭐⭐

My first show was done by 5:21 p.m. ─ that's freakin' early! I will be finished my next show before I have often even begun watching these things!

This first show was S.W.A.T. ─ episode eight ("The Tiffany Experience") of season two. My source was at TVSeries.video.

This one was good, and I even had my emotions affected at one point. It had nothing to do with the can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol) that I drank during the show. The scene was simply deeply touching.

I miss having friends ─ in-person friends, and not friends I only know via the Web.

A second beer in hand, I tuned in a series I used to watch in the evening pre-COVID with my brother, but I never left a record that I can uncover of where we left off with the series. And no description makes my recognition flare.

I am speaking of Humans ─ this time, I re-watched episode one of the first season. I must observe here that the Wikipedia description of that episode is completely out of whack or sequence.

My source was again at TVSeries.video. I remember many portions of the episode, but I used to drink heavily in the evenings when I watched shows with my brother. I found that the episode was exceptionally involving, so I did not in the least mind seeing it again in a more sober state. But I wonder how far my brother and I got into the series?

In this episode, I recognized one actress whom I just could not place. I had a vague idea on her name, and then eventually the series I knew her from struck home: The IT Crowd. I am of course speaking of Katherine Parkinson. She looked considerably 'dumpier' in Humans than she did in The IT Crowd, where she was actually remarkably 'hot' despite having that status downplayed for her character.

The Humans episode was done by 6:32 p.m., and it was intriguing. I know that I am vulnerable to that degree of attachment to such a manufactured 'person' as one of the 'female' synths was being portrayed. All of my life I have longed for devotion from a 'true love', and I would reciprocate beyond measure.

For my third show, I poured a minimum of a dozen ounces of that Chilean white wine into a glass, and tuned in The Rookie ─ episode seven ("Baja") of season eight. And for the third time, my source was at TVSeries.video.

This was also a truly enjoyable episode.

I think that I will award first place to Humans because of how lonely I am for an intimate relationship, so both S.W.A.T. and The Rookie can tie for second spot ─ The Rookie might have the edge.

The show and my glass of wine were done by 8:29 p.m., and I realized that at some point my brother had gotten back home from wherever he had bused towards mid-afternoon to social drink.

I have since brushed my teeth, and contemplated watching more T.V. shows, but that would require further drinking, and I am shy about expending those resources. I lack, and a massive taxation bill is coming up in earliest July, while a lesser hit is coming June 14. Meantime, the fortnightly mortgage is nearly $1,000 ... and my normal pension income each month usually nets well below $3,000.

This is not the retirement I ever even remotely imagined in any worst scenarios in my younger life.

Right now it is 9:26 p.m., and I am going to get to bed well before 10 p.m. for once.