Caffeine dilates blood vessels, did you know that? I'm sure that for years, my vessels were expanded to the max, which is why I now feel like my skull is imploding, because without caffeine, all my vessels have collapsed.

Yesterday, it was in the 90s---104 with the heat index. I slept from 5AM til 11AM, took a shower, took another shower, napped from 5PM til 8PM, showered again, watched the Olympic opening ceremonies, with another couple of showers---what, you think I'm kidding? I step into the shower, turn on the cold water (which isn't nearly cold enough), rotate a few times, exit and go on about my business, which is trying to get the maximum benefit of the three fans in my room. And lately, I've been doing that upwards of four times a day, because I either feel sticky or dizzy or both.

Anyway, opening ceremonies=awesome. Loved the bit with the Queen and James Bond and the corgis. Watched that, fast-forwarding through the commercials. I'm not usually a fan of musical theater, but this was intriguingly different.

Was in bed with lights out by 2AM, and was awake before 9. I've been up for a scant three hours, and I'm ready to crawl back into bed. After a shower....

What I *really* want is a bathtub that clears my hips, that I won't break my neck trying to get in and out of, cold water and a couple bags of ice.

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I'm trying to resync my sleep schedule, really I am. Especially since I'm scheduled for jury duty at fuck-me-o'clock next Monday.

So Sunday, as I mentioned, I slept til 1 in the afternoon. Was up all night, went to the food bank with Mb Monday morning, then running around: dog park, her bank, CVS drugs, Publix, Sallys Beauty Supply---I returned the stuff I got for the reunion, because $11---FPL pay station, then home,, where I put my stuff away and crashed. It was after 11AM, so I'd been up for about 22 hours. I used to be able to do stuff like that. These days, not so much.

Anyway, I slept til nearly 8PM, missed J's five phone calls telling me The Box from GK has arrived, and I've been up all night catching up on DVR'ed stuff. Looked at listings, was nonplused to see all the infomercials, until I realized it was 3AM. Guh.

Anyway, I'm going to get The Box from J around 10, and try to stay up as late as I can. If I miss primetime, so be it. Hopefully, by Wednesday, I'll have enough of my shit together to do some job hunting. (It makes such a bad impression when you're semi-comatose.)

I need to do some cooking...I got sausages, onions, corn, spinach/arrugala salad greens, a bunch of fruit---yay, mangoes!, strawberries, grapes and a whole pineapple---now to put them to work. With what I've got in the pantry, there's no reason that shouldn't feed me for most of the week.

I know I'm probably boring the hell out of y'all, but it's all I've got.

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Thanks to my thoroughly buggered sleep schedule, I haven't been to church the last few weeks because I've slept through my alarm. I think I've been once in the last two months, which is dreadful. Ordinarily, I *might* miss once in two months.

This morning, though, by the simple expedience of not going to bed, I was showered and dressed and ready to go. Then I went out and my car wouldn't start. Again. It was 10:45---service begins at 11---so I said sod it and went in, took my clothes off and went to sleep.

I really don't want to pop $60 on a new battery. Now, it may just be that it wasn't fully charged after last Monday, and if I stick it on the charger for a few hours and do some running around town, then maybe I can nurse it along. Hopefully.

Now to figure out what's for dinner....

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One thing that can be said for last week's Ordeal By Cat, it sure helped reset my sleep cycle. I was so utterly worn-out after five days and nights of caterwaling that I conked out around 10PM Saturday night. Was up a wee bit later on Sunday, but I have subsequently managed to be in bed with lights out by midnite, and up early. (Before 7:30AM?! OMG!)

Mb came by yesterday and dropped off my walking shoes. I'd left them at her place, but what with the toe and her busy schedule, it doesn't look like we'll be walking together soon. I need to get my act together and Just Do It. (Seven weeks?! Yikes!)

I was going to give her one of my belts, because she has some jeans that are falling off her. Tried it on, and it works on me. How/when did that happen? Also, my brown belt with studded rings, last worn to the Depeche Mode concert on the next-to last hole, is a couple holes farther down. My only regret is that my Little Earth belt, gotten back when I was 340-ish, now falls off my hips completely, and there's no way to fix it.

I wonder if my "disco-ball" dress...no, too flashy for the reunion, I think. Besides, I last wore that around 30 pounds ago, it would *have* to be taken in. *smile*

Have a good day, y'all!

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Now that it's OVER, I can tell y'all about the ordeal I've been going through the last few days. I didn't want to discuss it and get everyone stirred up, but now I can.

It started around Monday. I kept hearing a cat meowing. I thought it was outside my bathroom, no big deal. Cats love my yard, and as long as it's JUST naging around my yard, I really don't care, although we all know Fluffy is NOT a cat person.

As Tuesday rolled around, and I kept hearing this mewing, I went outside to take a look, and saw nothing. Nothing in the yard, nothing in the tree...but I could hear it---and my roof needs some holes repaired.

See where this is going?

Uh-huh. It had gotten under the eaves and managed to work its way inside the walls. There was only one way for that to happen---my two bathrooms are back-to-back, and there's a gap between them so the pipes will fit.

I could hear it behind the sink. Jason the Yard Guy was coming to mow on Wednesday, and I reckoned he could help me get the damned thing out. Don't look at me like that: I haven't had a decent night's sleep in five days. They call it caterwaling for a reason.

Jason came out, couldn't see it, because it was between the walls, doncha know, and surmised, because I'd also heard it behind the stove.... Okay, let me digress briefly for an architectural tour of Chez Fluffy. As I mentioned, the bathrooms are back-too-back. On the other side of the hall bath is the kitchen. Spanning the hall bath, which is somewhat larger than the master bath, is a standard cast-iron tub, circa 1958. Jason theorized that the beast was using the curved tunnel of the tub to migrate between the space behind my sink and the space beside my stove (which backs up to the hall bath).

He promised to come back with a humane trap the next day. Thursday. Except the Universe laughs when we make plans; his drainfield imploded, and he's been working on it ever since.

Meanwhile, the screaming banshee started in every time I used the toilet, every time I rolled over in bed---constantly. I wanted to wrestle this cougar down and twist its head off. I tried telling myself, "Oh, the poor thing is probably scared to death!", but honestly, after the first couple days and nights of sleep-deprivation, I didn't care.

Now, while I wanted to end it, I certainly didn't want it dying behind the wall. The occasional mouse is bad enough. And I know that dying of hunger takes longer than dying of thirst. So I did a little MacGyvering. There are chrome rings covering the holes where the water pipes from the sink taps go into the wall, and one of them is loose.

Using a funnel, two straws and some duct tape, I fashioned a spout I could use to pour water into
the gap between the walls. My compliments to whoever put that wall up---I've poured at last a gallon in there, and not had it leak.

Jason is still busy with his own woes, but he sent a friend of his to help me out. He dragged the stove away from the wall, confirmed that there is indeed access to the bathtub from the space behind the stove, and we could both hear Cat Kong.

I surrendered a car of tuna and dug out a little battery-operated fan to waft the succulent aroma in its direction. Jason's friend is more of a cat person than I am. He sweet-talked it to the open can and snagged it.

This ferocious beast, this mountain lion, Cat Kong...might weigh all of a pound, and half of that would be fuzz. It was TINY. HOW could anything that small make so much noise for so long?!

I gave Jason's friend a $10 bill I'd intended for the collection plate. He earned it. The Universe will understand. He took the wee beastie with him, in a box, with the rest of the tuna. As it departed, it was eating with single-minded determination, punctuated with little grunts. It was absolutely adorable, and I've never been so glad to wave good-bye as I was to that box!

I'm really glad I didn't have to take a baseball bat to the wall, which was my back-up plan.

Now I'm going to catch a nap before heading over to J's this evening. Sweet, silent night!

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I didn't actually get to sleep last night til after midnight. Then my eyes popped open around 4:30 and refused to let me go back to sleep. Swell.

That did give me a chance to get somewhat caught up on my DVR trove. Yesterday's Adam-12s (two eps back-to-back) were both from 1974/75*. One had a female!police!officer! riding with Reed because Malloy was filling on for Mack, who was busy on assignment elsewhere. She was played by JoAnne Pflug, one of those 70s names I haven't heard in ages. Lots of chauvinism and having to prove herself. Someday, I'm going to do some Adam-12 meta on then and now. It's coming; I can feel it.

The second ep featured Reed partnered with a rookie (again, Malloy was subbing for Mack...wait, that just sounds wrong), and I yelped when I recognized the kid as a baby-faced, 24 y.o. Mark Harmon. That's easily the youngest I've ever seen him, and he didn't even sound like I'm used to. According to IMDb, that was only his third acting credit, after Emergency and something called Ozzie's Girls.

I suspect there's an afternoon nap in my future, if not sooner.

o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o

* Depending on whether you believe the copyright date on the credits (1974), or IMDb (1975).

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I remember an episode of "The Flintstones from a million years ago, where the gang thought Fred had some kind of sleeping sickness, and they had to keep him awake for 24 hours, because if he fell asleep, he'd never wake up. (Except it was actually Dino who was sick, and he could sleep all he wanted---but I digress.)

Right now, I'm feeling rather Fred-like. Over the last few weeks in particular, my sleep schedule has run amok, to the point where "bedtime" has been around noon, and I sleep til evening. I managed to shift it around a little yesterday, to the point where I woke up before 7AM today. Now, I'm endeavoring to stay awake until 10PM or thereabout.

At the moment, my brains have the higher functions of a bowl of custard. I want to get horizontal and snooze, to hell with how out-of-sync I am with the rest of the world. I crave sleep. NOW.

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The foot is definitely better; at the risk of TMI, it isn't oozing any more. Mb, bless her, has just dropped off some Neosporin. Now, I can put a bandage over my sore spot. That means I can wear shoes, which means I can go places and get things done. (Because of where it is, I need cushioning between me and the shoe.)

For the last 24 hours, I haven't had it bandaged just wandering around the house, partly because of the lack of Neosporin---taking the dressings off kept pulling the scab loose. It's tender if the sheets hit it, but not screamingly painful. I'd call that progress.

I haven't been to bed yet---SO screwed up! meaning I'm liable to be doing a midnight Wally World run. And god knows about the library books. Not today, that's for sure. I'm at that so-tired-I'm-falling-over-but-can't-cleep stage. Not driving anywhere like this....

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Went to bed (Mb's) and slept an astonishing nine hours under a quilt in glorious air. Just woke up. I apparently slept thru Mb coming in, taking a shower, and dressing to go out. She went, and came back with Bunny, who was here when I wandered happily back to the living room to discover how LATE it is.

SO comfortable. No clue what we're doing this afternoon, but I suspect eventual WalMart.

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Was in bed with the lights out by midnight. Took a little while to actually fall asleep, but wasn't lying awake staring at theceiling for hours, either. Woke around 4:30 (bladder), took a while to get back to sleep again, but I did, and slept til 8:59.

Had some very odd dreams. The oddest was something based off Criminal Minds, where the unsub was going around throwing acid on people who did things like littler, spit on the sidewalk, not clean up after their dogs, etc. He was in an Art Deco building, and starting to spiral out of control and caused a panic.

Meanwhile, the BAU was on a case where the only way to draw the killer out was for Reid to get onstage at some kind of fair, and do a magic act. He was selecting a variety of silk flowers that had psychological implications, and turned down a hideous pre-made bouquet offered by the brother-in-law of the carnival owner, which was going to offend him and cause a crisis, because he was the one they were looking for.

And now I have to get my ass in gear and get out of here.
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