Tired of makin' out on the telephone.

With a new bed comes a new bedtime ritual, and I'm starting to like it quite a bit. Bedtime rituals are, for me, the sort of thing that is best kept short. I'd much rather simply be able to fall into bed and wake up in the morning none the wiser. Nevertheless, two separate medical conditions prevent me from doing this, as well as general hygeine. But I've gotten used to it. In fact, I've purposefully extended my bedtime ritual in recent days, to good results. Rather than just going to sleep, I've been reading the newest Harry Potter book after the assorted pokes and prods. And, given that I'm still in that "new bed" phase where every night seems like I'm on vacation, I don't dread laying awake in bed staring at the ceiling for hours at a time any more. I mean, it's not the greatest thing, but t'aint the worst neither.

Don't really have a whole lot to say tonight. I was going to try again at my extended post on Depeche Mode's "Songs of Faith and Devotion," but I'm once again going to put that on hold. Mostly I was just going to do another long rumination on getting older while everyone else seems to be getting younger, but that's for another day. Right now I'm just going to dig the new comforter.

Here's a nifty pointer, though. It's not all it cracks itself up to be, but there are at least two things I decided to learn more about after having it on for an hour or so. Which is pretty good for these kinds of services, given my diverse tastes.

End transmission.