Thursday, June 29, 2017

It's still summer

It's hot again. I dislike heat, even more now given that I have some combination of medication side-effects/being a Woman of a Certain Age going on. I don't tolerate it as well as I formerly did.

I will say I think the "tweaked back" was actually a persistent muscle cramp; it went away suddenly midday yesterday. Which meant I was more comfortable, and I also decided instead of taking yesterday as a "rest day," I did the Kenn Kihiu workout in the late afternoon. So today gets to be a rest day, which is good given that I have to be here relatively early to meet with my research student, and at the end of the day is Piano Lesson, so it would be more of a challenge to fit in exercise.

I'm not sleeping well again. Even with the air conditioner set as low as I dare (76, and I'm gonna dread the electric bill this month) and a dehumidifier in the house. I have oppressive dreams and I'm sure that's partly because breathing is less comfortable when it's so warm and humid.

Also, this was making the rounds the other day:

That's me. For some reason I need to be covered up when I sleep - I think it's a "security" thing, just like how some cats prefer to find a "cave" somewhere in the house to sleep in. So when it's hot and the most I can tolerate is a sheet, I feel exposed and unsafe somewhere deep in the animal part of my brain, and I sleep more lightly - which is probably why I notice "oppressive" dreams; they say that people who wake more easily are more prone to remember their dreams (which may be why some people on certain medications report "not dreaming" - it's not that they don't go into REM, but they wake slower and don't remember the dreams).

In one of the catalogs I get (Nancy's Notions, maybe) I saw a listing for a book of blankets you can make for people with sensory or autistic-spectrum issues - they are weighted blankets (Not sure how they manage that without them being beastly hot, but maybe they use plastic pellets or something). And you know? That idea appeals to me a little. (I've always come up as "neurotypical" on those online assessments for whatever they're worth, but sometimes I wonder). I KNOW I sleep better in winter when I have not only my little flannel sheet-blanket but one of my heavier quilts (and on really cold nights, the fluffy veloury blanket I have) on the bed. And I don't thrash around as much in winter - I actually have a warning system for how restlessly I sleep: how many of the stuffed animals I have ranged around on the head of the bed wind up on the floor by morning? In the winter, it's almost none; in the summer, it's maybe 3 or 4 on an average night, maybe 7 on a really hot night. Some nights the pillows even wind up on the floor.

And ugh, it's humid. I just gone done with my research student - today was the day to check germination, which involved stooping down over every plot and also removing the cedar litter and putting it back and I'm perspiring like crazy, even though I didn't exert much.

Also, when I was a kid and dealing with bullies at school? I never thought I'd grow up into a world run by them. I genuinely hoped things would get better but apparently they didn't. I know bullies are at heart cowards who are insecure and don't like themselves, but that makes them no easier to take.

I think fundamentally it is that I see so many people on all sides of me doubling down on "meanness" - instead of debating issues, they hurl insults at the other parties. And I just look at that and go "There is nowhere in this conversation for me. I cannot take part in this" and I am once again reminded of how really very little I fit in anywhere, and how weird I am, and how I wish there were more people in the world like me (because I cannot make myself be like the rest of the world) and I don't know.

I know the old Gospel song that goes "The world is not my home" and yes, there's truth in that - but even living in a cruddy ugly apartment, you gotta LIVE while you're living there, you gotta be able to cope somehow with the loud neighbors and that guy who stands outside your front door and smokes even though you've asked him not to, and that person who lets their dog defecate on your little patch of lawn, and I don't know. It gets lonely some times.

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