One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders
abiona

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Saturday was a truly terrible demonstration of my current sleep issues: I fell asleep at 2:00 a.m., only to regain consciousness at 5:30 a.m., unable to return to slumber. While this may be normal for Gene, I can normally snooze for a good ten hours straight if I'm not disturbed.

Oh well. Not much to do in such a situation but get up, right? And so it was that on that day, I decided to take a six-mile trek to the universities and back, just to see if I could do it and how long it would take. It wound up being about an hour in each direction, though the return walk was actually much longer because of pain. I took a good chunk of Advil before I left the house and again on my way back, but my left knee was still nearing agony and my right hip was popping and bothering me as well. My knee ached all day Sunday. Walking has always gotten to my joints eventually, but I honestly don't remember plain ol' walking making my knee hurt this much before The November Incident.

The area I walked through is teetering on the brink; it was once much more upbeat and richer than it is now, but through the decay and litter, there are signs of people trying to improve the current condition. There are many old houses that I like to look at as I amble past, thinking of how someday, someday, I'd sure like to save an old house and restore it. I note which ones are in terrible shape, missing both occupants and windows, see that someone has just recently put up some emergency 2x4 support for a collapsing porch ... observe which ones have lost their front porches altogetherwith for one reason or another ... and wonder how many have been divided up on the inside into separate apartments, something I have mixed feelings about. On the one hand, if it enables the house to go on living, that's great. But at the same time, it's not what the house was.

Anyway, as I was meandering towards my goal, a homeless man stopped me. "Hey, young miss," he said, "Can I ask a favor of ya?" I responded, "That depends on what you need." When he asked me for change, I looked him straight in the eye and informed him that if I had change, I would not be walking, I would be taking the bus. He nodded sagely, and said that he could understand that. He complimented me and started saying something else, but I was on my way again and no longer in earshot.

Somewhere in between the old man grinning at me and the lady laughing her ass off as she zoomed around me with her stolen shopping cart, it struck me that I had just made a connection, brief though it was, with a vagrant. I saw eye to eye, I stood on the same level. If it were not for the web of friendship, generosity, and family in which I currently reside, I could just as easily be where he is, without a home. The margin is so very paperthin.

I was pretty zoned out on my way back, ignoring my body and walking on. When I returned home, I promptly ruined any physical benefit of walking six miles by feasting on Poptarts.

Sleep issues continue. I fell asleep last night around 2:00 a.m., I was up at 6:00 a.m. D'rr.
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