Didn't do a damned thing after supper last night except read a bit. Turned out the light at 9 and was asleep before I said my prayers. Woke at midnight, read a bit and had a prophylactic glass of red wine. Again, fell right to sleep. (Thanks, red wine) Woke long enough at 5:45 to register the time and back to sleep. Then Tom woke me with a phone call at 7:45 -- which is before I usually call HIM in the morning...sigh.

Took me a bit to become one with the universe.

He's insistent. I ate a couple slices of really nice bread, replied to a couple necessary emails, posted here, posted an appropriate M.F.K. Fisher quote at Facebook, and I think I'm on my way again.

Tom's reaching the point of, I dunno, agitation or something, where I know I need to get him home. When I called him at 9 last night, he'd thought he'd slept the night and it was morning. This morning, despite talking wristwatch, nurses to ask, etc. he thought it was much later in the day and he was concerned I wasn't there. (Count my blessings; at least it wasn't 4 a.m., as he's done in the past.)

Onward. Better go see if there's any sanity to be found someplace.

Linn