Awake finally, hungry, but no energy to go out and get breakfast. This is probably not good. I can remember mornings similar to this when I was younger, but they involved drinking and debauchery the night before, the world not really emerging from pain until the next day in the afternoon and even then it was a very slow afternoon of wading through wet sand.

This morning more resembled those thankfully long gone wet sand afternoons. A hesitant walk at twelve-thirty to the morning café for breakfast, the ladies wondering where I'd been. Asleep, I'd said. “Good for you!” they'd replied.

Well, yes. Sleep is good, but I'm not sure it quite describes this morning's lack of traction. Perhaps we're growing older faster than we think. Then again, then again.... At least it facilitates the whinging.

Home now at three. We're starting to feel like a human being, the sinuses that were a good part of the problem seem to be coming back into some kind of stasis, maybe another dose of the pain meds and all will fall into place.

Later. Another hour's nap, better, but we're not there yet.

Evening. Back to normal. Not sure what normal is anymore, but feel better at eight in the evening. Nothing on television, but I haven't been interested in television. An odd one of a kind day, at least in its extremes, to bed early and up with the alarm tomorrow.