It is almost 5:30 in the morning here.
I have been awake all night long.
I’m going to try to go to sleep again in a few minutes.
Yesterday I printed out my funeral wishes (and other legal papers involving end-of-life issues), signed them, and gave them to two of the officials I trust at my place of worship.
They probably assumed my concern was due to my declining health and the degenerative disabilities which aren’t getting better.
They know I am depressed, although I haven’t mentioned the “S” word at all.
Inconvenient fact about wearing glasses while depressed: If you blink your eyes when they’re full of tears, your eyelashes flick little drops onto the inside of your glasses, and then eventually you can hardly see. Sort of like a car windshield after driving behind a semi on muddy roads. Good luck being able to see anything at all after a few minutes.
Me: “Wait, was that a stop sign?”