for the past several months i’ve developed, quite by accident, an extraordinarily irritating sleep habit: i wake up somewhere in the 2 o’clock hour, lie awake for a while, and eventually fall asleep again. it’s been going on a while, and the only time it doesn’t happen is when i’m really, really tired.
today it decided to take it to the next level, obviously, as i woke up at 01:51, the earliest yet. i remember being really surprised when i looked at my clock a century later and found out that it was only 02:10; then later i was surprised to find myself still awake by 3. i finally gave up trying to get back to sleep around 06:30, and got out of bed. naturally, all this time spent lying awake was an ideal time to angst about the first chi-sage meeting tonight and my fears that nobody is going to show up, it’ll be a gigantic failure, and it’ll all be my fault. and there was some puremessage angst, and a little mirapoint fear, thrown in there for spice. i really enjoyed that entire experience. really. upon reflection, if it happens again, i’m just going to say fuck it and get out of bed at three and go watch television, a netflix movie or something. at least then i’d be distracted instead of angsting about stupid shit in the dark.given that a lady’s fingers proclaim her behavior, mine betray that i was broken: the other day i noticed that all the fingernails on my right hand have noticeable ridges in them running across the top of the nail, about, oh, say, two months’ growth out.
that is really weird. i can’t stop running my left fingers over the bump. (no, i don’t really expect anyone to care about this. i’m just a little bit “woah, that’s weird,” and a little bit “heh, cool” about it, and bored enough to post both sentiments.) oh, fine; i suppose i’ll provide some useful content here. i’ve got nearly my full range of motion back in my hand, after only a week of proper physical therapy. i’ve got two more weeks to go, then i’m off a week (although i might go in for therapy anyways, we’ll see how it looks at the end of next week), then i go back to see my doctor, at which point hopefully he’ll pronounce me ready to do weight-bearing exercises on that hand again. yoga class, here i come — i bet my instructor is wondering what the hell happened to me. (actually, i bet she’s *stopped* wondering by now. depressing.)
