Hobos In Paradise...

My father was running very late tonight, but he did bring an awesome meal of "Hobos" -- a perennial treat around these parts so it was excusable. We took my crazy meds with no mishaps as Maggie vied for my father's attention.

"I liked to have never got the potatoes done in those hobos," my father told me.

My father left and the first thing I did was sit down in front of the television and eat my potato laden and meaty meal. The sauce is about the best thing of all in the meal. It about drove the Magster crazy! I gave her a little minuscule bite of the meat patty and that is all she got. It is so very. very hard to say no.

Can't Shake My Rip Van Winkle Complex...

Over time, I have learned that I slowly move more towards sleeping in the day and staying up all night. Everything is as right as rain. Nothings wrong to worry myself over. There are no phone calls or social visits at 3am in the morning and that is reassuring and comforting to a degree. I do get lonely at times in the midnight hours, though -- a price I have to pay for my sleeping schedule.

This morning, I went to bed around 7am and slept until 7pm this afternoon. My extravagant breakfast was strawberry preserves, butter, and raisin toast. This pauper's breakfast certainly was mighty fine in my eyes.