I know, right? Who am I?
Sleep was fitful last night. I’ve been sleeping through the night lately, but man, the dreams are odd. I’m thankful for the sleep, though. I still have strange nightmares and strange dreams but every now and then I’ll have one that’s so bizarre that I can’t help but hope that I’ll be able to continue it the following night.
I’m bored. [Squirrel.]
I woke up around 10 this morning. Fell asleep again until 1. I woke up groggy from the excessive sleep and sheets that had become stale from sweat – I told you, I have bizarre dreams. Then I sat in bed and read for an hour and a half.
I read. My attention span is improving. Audiobooks don’t feel like my only option anymore.
If it had been a textbook, something about neuroanatomy for example, I would have been able to read forever. But there’s something about fiction; I used to get frustrated because I couldn’t picture what I was reading. I couldn’t picture the images described in the words.
Reading fiction had essentially lost its magic.
Like all things, it just needs practice.
Like walking, which is something I need to take more advantage of. The apartment is set up in a circle, perfect for walking aimlessly. I need to use this quarantine and bleak, inanely boring but precious time to walk. To get the most out of the phenol injections my PT, Lucas, had kindly worked his schedule around.
What was my point?
There goes my train of thought and memory again!
I should probably be editing this as I write it but it’s become a way to let out my thoughts in real-time. Why edit that? I take so long to write, it’s no wonder I forget things as I try to write them.
I think I was supposed to make a phone call today. Or something. I don’t remember.
It’s quite funny really.