Woke up with this horrible pain in the center of my back but it’s better now. I’d say it’s time I stop the HIIT routines. I’m too old and heavy for those. I’d rather just do basic cardio, work my core, and play around on the Bowflex every now and then. I just wish I had the energy to do it more regularly!

I also woke up very tired. I was up a long time last night unable to sleep because I had been caught up on sleep the day before. I was up for about 19 hours and slept for about 9. I’ve been very tired ever since. I wonder if I overdid the tacrolimus, if I had a huge sugar crash from the cheesecake I ate, or if it’s something else. I’m just sick of feeling so blah so often. Even if I had a good story idea (though I don’t), I’m still too tired for too many days to do things like NaNoWriMo next month, especially with a hard word count of 50k.

We ordered the glasses today so they’ll be here within two weeks.

We used the new fish tank vacuum hose to siphon out half of the betta’s water and replaced it with filtered water. I aimed the temperature checker at the stream of water coming out of the faucet to make sure it was within the ballpark of what it’s supposed to be before I filtered it and Tom added conditioning drops.

I’m still stressed out over the upcoming Liothyronine experiment and going back and forth in my mind between reaching out to Tammy and the girls and not. I still don’t know what to make of her cryptic message. I’m just not sure what the right thing to do would be. I don’t want to come off like I don’t care at all but if they don’t care about me, then why bother? If they’d rather not hear from me then I should respect their wishes, but is that what they really want? I just don’t know what they would prefer. Hell, I don’t even know what I would prefer. We may have our differences and Tammy has certainly been both directly and indirectly responsible for causing me a lot of grief in life but I don’t want her to suffer or die. I realize, though, that if she is really dying and not just hyping things up because she’s pissed or wants attention she can’t otherwise ask for, for some reason, there’s nothing I can do about it.

Tammy has never been dumb but she isn’t bright either and I wonder if something’s been wrong with her brain these last few years. She’s always had a habit of seeming forgetful or not able to grasp quite what I’m saying almost in the way Andy has, though not nearly as bad. Yet these last few years I’ve noticed it more. It’s like no matter how many times I explained certain things to her like what I really meant when I said I didn’t want any drama, she still doesn’t get it. Is she just not understanding? Or is she just determined to make a situation what she wants it to be? I suppose both age and stress along with the health issues themselves could mess with her mind and the way her brain functions.

I realize this may be selfish of me but if the end is near, I feel like I’m less obligated to attend her funeral and have to deal with her kids. I would be ready with some excuse if it came to that, and truthfully, we really do need to watch our money since we have to pay so much in medical expenses as we age and continue to acquire more health issues. I feel I have enough of my own health issues right now to be taking off on my own, assuming Tom would be unable to accompany me. So yeah, I’m torn between being compassionate and selfish.

For once I got to have weird and funny dreams.

In one dream I was sleeping in a king-size bed between Palma and her husband of all people and they had a newborn baby in a nearby crib. We were all settling in for the night and I dreaded being woken up because I knew the damn kid wasn’t going to remain quiet all night.

Then I got up since I wasn’t ready to sleep anyway and was moving about the house which seemed to be in the form of a circle. Picture a circular hallway. Later, I was commanding Alexa to turn off certain lights before returning to bed. As I climbed over Palma and slipped in under the covers between the two, Palma was still awake if only barely and asked what I was doing. I said something about turning the lights off.

In the next dream, I was going down a slide in a park somewhere over and over again. A guy in his twenties who was noticeably taller than me but skin and bones was calling out lewd and perverted comments to me. Not only was I confused at why he would say such things to someone decades older and on the heavy side, but I was also getting pissed. So after I hit the ground I walked over to him and asked, “How much do I weigh?”

He looked at me with confusion. Just like I look younger than my age, I look lighter than I am. So again I asked him how much I weighed and he shrugged and said, “I don’t know, 120 maybe?”

I grabbed his wrist painfully and said through bared teeth, “152 pounds of pure steel, fat and fury. I suggest you think twice before calling out whatever to whoever.” Then I turned and walked off leaving him stoned behind me.