I was awake all night, creative, inspired, and feeling wonderful mentally, if not physically.  Jack was sleeping on the couch just a few feet away; his gentle snoring was a comforting rhythmic soundtrack.  My brother was facebooking me unexpectedly from Cleveland- of all places- from a train (it was 3:30 am there), and an old friend from high school was awake feeling sick and chatted with me.  I wrote and wrote and wrote, brainstorming an idea that had been just a vague nagging kernel, but overnight began to take form and shape and started to seem real, finally.  Really real and a definite possibility.  I pitched it to a person that I thought could help me make  it so. 

Birds started chirping.  The sun came up, the sky turning that translucent blue that only God could create, and that only Salvador Dali could capture in paint.   I finally fell into a deep perfect sleep around 5 am, leaving a note on the coffee pot for Jack to get me up in time for my 8am physical therapy appointment, which he did.  I love him so much.

PT was fantastic.  It “hurt so good.”  I am still not tired…I took fewer meds today, too- the best part is, I was not watching the clock waiting for the exact minute that the next doses were allowed and checking them off in my notebook.  I feel almost back to normal (for me.  My own version of normal.)

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