Soon I'll hit the switch and fold into the universe

[sovay]

In things today that didn't suck rocks screaming through a straw, I worked through the late morning and afternoon and dozed off on the couch in the evening while rewatching Jean Renoir's This Land Is Mine (1943). Occasionally the thunder woke me and sometimes I saw the lightning flicker on the inside of my eyelids, but otherwise I slept through a shatteringly impressive storm that seems to have done nothing to wring out the humidity but was probably still a good idea for avoiding drought. spatch made me dinner of scrambled eggs and very liquid grits with goat cheese and black cherry Jell-O for dessert while I was sleeping. Hestia watched over me. I feel very cared for by people who are not medical professionals. The part where I remain in lots of pain still sucks.

Comments

[julian]

I was driving on I-93 in Braintree, which I generally try not to do but am sometimes forced into, and there was this amazing profusion of rain and clash of thunder, *while* it was incredibly sunny.

I drove through ropes of sunlight, through carpets of white, shimmering, astonishing water. It was amazing.

(I'm very glad you got good sleep, though. Or good nap.)

[sovay]

I drove through ropes of sunlight, through carpets of white, shimmering, astonishing water. It was amazing.

That sounds wonderful. I am a little sorry I was not awake for more of the storm because I like them, but I think if I was capable of sleeping through the 1812 Overture, it's a good thing I did.

(I'm very glad you got good sleep, though. Or good nap.)

(Thank you. I don't usually fall asleep to movies!)

[julian]

I think so too, really. And you got some storm effects in the subconscious. Comfort and surcease in the lower levels of your brain.

(I sometimes have runs of time where I can't fall asleep if I don't have some noise (like radio or a TV program) going on, and sometimes I can't fall asleep if there's much noise at all. So: at the moment, me neither!)