A while back, I started this blog to be a companion to me because I was not sleeping well. I thought I would sit up and blog instead of wasting time trying to sleep. Since then, I have slept perfectly well every night since I moved into the guest bed, away from Mr Furlong. I love the big bed where I can twist and turn, without the feeling I’m hogging the bed.
In sleeping with Mr Furlong, I find I roll towards the middle. So I have to cling along the edge of the mattress like a small tree frog along a leaf.
But tonight I can’t sleep. I’m trying to work out how long I might have to live if they find this thing in my bladder is cancer. If I’m not lucky, maybe a few years. If I’m lucky, maybe ten years or more. In any event, I was having a really lovely life, feeling well and exuberant so I’m going to be pretty pissed off (no pun intended) if my life is cut short.
These kinds of thoughts are not good bedtime companions!