Two pots of coffee and still I'm fighting the urge to curl up and sleep. I didn't have a late night or a particularly early morning. My mother thinks my iron levels are low and my best friend thinks it's just the 'depressurization' of getting settled in.

I think it's the constant nightmares. Hard to get decent sleep when you're waking up every hour or so. Cold sweat, racing heart.

They'll go away as suddenly as they appeared. Always do.

---

My books are all unpacked and on the shelves. I'm surprised to find that I'm feeling ..uneasy.. that they are not in order. I don't mean alphabetical order but in groups of genres, by author. And here I thought I was the most easy-going of people. I'm blaming it on my years of working at the library. (Which is why you'll see all the books at my house pulled forward, literally lined up with the edge of the shelves. Habit. And it's better for your books, any way.)

---

Still waiting on a tripod for my telescope. Haven't even taken it outside, sadly. Thought about it the other night but the northern lights have been hanging about, obscuring any decent views from my backyard.

---

I haven't seen or heard from my brother yet. This seems strange to M., but it's the norm for me and P. We're not close, not in the sense that we talk on the phone or write letters, etc. Once in a blue moon we exchange emails, though that's generally a birthday thing.

We are old comrades. We fought the same enemies in our childhood. We have war stories that we never mention, not even to each other.

One of these months I'll venture up to the pub he manages/tends and let him buy me a beer.


.dar.



soundtrack: Danko Jones - "Lovercall"