A Night of Less Tensosity

It was a hot, humid Sunday, and I did my anxiety walking in 3 parts -- a 1.7 jaunt in the am before the humidity tossed me back, a 1.7 mile weird rescue dog lap, where she pulled me home, tongue dragging, and a finally 2.5 miles in the evening. The last was the best -- my man Josh FaceTimed me poolside, and then his brother and Dad joined in to keep me company as I strolled around. I joked it was my first virtual meeting with them sans alcohol - but in fact the 2 young guys had adult beverages.

D1 clicked in, and I got to see her and her men, and we planned Wifey and my trip to their patio for today.

I took my nightly scalding shower, and found it too hot to dry off on the balcony, so it was to bed.

I fell into a mercifully great, deep sleep, but around 1 am was awakened by a strange, clicking sound. I thought I was dreaming, and then maybe it was a roof leak, but it was  dry sound -- clicks every few seconds. I got up to investigate -- it was coming from behind my leather, insomnia chair, the place I sit and read when sleep evades me.

I moved the chair, and found the source. One of those comical click bugs was doing his thing. They sit, and then every so often jump up, with a clicking sound, after making the low noise when they fall back to the floor. I guess he was looking for a mate.

I scooped him up and gave him his freedom to click away in the great tropical outdoors.

I then fell back asleep, and had a blissfully whimsical dream -- not the usual negative ones of the past 7 weeks. It involved Mike, and his high forever friend Chris, and playing silly games with the cars -- Chris jumping out and getting in a car with young girls. Loni frowning.  It was the sort of thing that went on for real in the 80s.

I really appreciated the lightness of the dream, and awoke with less anxiety than usual.

Oh -- the annoyances found me soon enough, though. As I was feeding the dogs, I heard running water. Sure enough -- Wifey forgot to jiggle the toilet handle in the bathroom she uses at night -- its design flaw confounds the plumber I had try to fix it. The tank top just requires you manually return the flush handle each time.

So -- the water ran all night, as it does every several months when Wifey forgets. Ah -- what are ya gonna do?

But now the special needs Spaniel is happily crunching his kibble, and first light is appearing. I plan to lace up the sneaks and walk in the quiet morning gloaming.

Last Friday made 7 weeks in quarantine. Sure getting old. But I know we can all do the time.

And when click bugs and lighthearted dreams fill the long nights -- well, that just makes it easier.