92. Running Ragged

Only two hours of sleep at best. Another one of those rough nights that leave me running ragged all day. I suppose the July Fourth fireworks and Sammy’s wailing can account for much of the problem, but Pop and Lorie do give the stress another good twist. I have to appreciate how they seem to be trying to relish life to the utmost in their elderly years, though it seems to take a lot of booze and drunkenness and loud conversation. In terms of their spiritedness, it is like they are in their forties, their younger forties. Which is kind of nice, but it really drains me. Maybe there are some petty reasons tied up in that. Maybe they remind me of how much my life remains empty, and their vivacious example makes a mockery out of my isolation and loneliness, as I am the one left living like a decrepit seventy year old. But their noise really does not help, especially not at one and two in the morning.

Well, at least I got one break. Pop has left for the weekend. To Kay’s place. It would have been really hard on me if she had come here instead for the weekend. I fear that a lot more of these overnight visits could finish me off. I only get so much pleasure from my reading and blogging. It would not be difficult to break me.