(no subject)

So, Friday was my birthday, and as a gift to myself I decided to sleep in. Had a most excellent dream, too. Well, I suppose the part where there was an epic battle between good and evil with tyranny and mass slaughter was less than fun, but see, there was this man--a man who looked about my age, give or take a few years, but in reality had hundreds of years of experience
with pain relief. Man, was he ever good.

Oh yes, he was also enough of a mind-reader for a knowing smile to appear on his face every time I watched him pass by. I admit, the ability to ease pain wasn't his only appealing feature... still, given how I felt when I woke up in the morning, it was the analgesic properties of his hands that I missed the most. ::sigh::

(Unusually, the man's face has stuck with me. Most people in my dreams either have utterly bland faces, or they resemble people I recognize in the waking world. This face was both distinctive and unfamiliar. Odd, that.)

Anyway, turning 37 was boring and relatively uneventful, though I did finally manage to get through to my doctor's office. Also took a walk in the rain, which was less than fun thanks to the, y'know, pain. Went to bed early.

Today: Felt better than yesterday, though still pretty tired. Read a bit. Had an epiphany which produced gales of silent laughter and a resolve to keep doing what I was planning on doing anyway. The day also included various short but fun conversations with housemates, a short walk (longer than yesterday's), lots of music, not nearly enough caffeine, whichever syndicated SF-type shows happened to be on TV when I flicked it on, and bits of chocolate-covered cheesecake. Not the most exciting Saturday ever, but it certainly could have been worse.

Even though I've been sleeping a lot, I'm tired enough that I have no idea how much of the above is in grammatical English. My apologies if I've been speaking Gweurpiurghh again.