Wednesday 20 September 2017

Tuesday's Excuse

I stayed in bed yesterday. I didn't even get up to write. Tuesdays in bed; it seems to be a consistent theme, or at least it's becoming a consistent theme for me. The weekends tell the tale. On Friday night I often have somone over, staying up late, hanging out. On Saturday it's fairly common for me to have some sort of event, either wine bottling, or wine making, or a potluck of some sort. Sometimes, rarely these days, I will go out on Saturday. Generally, though, Saturday night involves lots of wine and staying up late.

Sunday is my first day of rest. I will often take a long time to get out of bed on Sunday, the only reason for actual getting up involves some Protestant guilt about having a messy home or laundry that needs doing. I have learned that both can wait, notwithstanding my Grandmother's admonitions in my head. So often Sundays are either a late arrisal, or no arrisal at all.

Then comes Monday, probably my favourite day of the week thans to my HCA Kathy. She comes in and immediatly encourages me to sleep for another hour while she cleans. Then she makes sandwiches for me; by the time we are done it's no longer breakfast. It's well after 1:00 PM most days. So I've slept in a bit, I have food I like, and Kathy has me exercised and dressed. I usually get up.

Tuesday, however, is a different story. Kathy certainly comes in and does her stuff. Yet I know there are no exercises, no intent for me to shower, no sandwiches waiting. Now, to be sure, all the food Kathy makes for me is real food, good food. If hunger were a motivation, I would most certainly get up and eat. It is not; I don't feel hungry all that much most days. I do every once I an while, but mostly I eat because I know it's time to eat, and because someone has made something for me to eat.

So here I am, yesterday morning. Kathy walks in, takes one look at me, and says "You want to sleep, don't you?" I mumbled in the affirmative. She emptied my pee jugs, covered up my feet, and said she was off to make something for me to eat. If I wanted it, I would have to get up.

I didn't want it. I stayed in bed. All day. All night too. And now, finally, I am up. I've eaten. I'm having coffee. I ate breakfast cereal today. I guess that's it. I can go back to bed now.

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