I set up this journal thingy yesterday while I was pissed off with my ISPs. I have two: PlusNet and dircon. The PlusNet account is a fixed-rate thing where I can connect for so many hours a week without needing to pay for the phone calls; the dircon account is Richard's old account that he's had for years. The PlusNet account is my primary account, because it's fixed-rate, and we use the dircon account as backup, if something's wrong with PlusNet.
One of the main things I do online these days is read usenet. My friends from various places, in particular alt.polyamory, are very important to me and it's the main way I seem to keep in contact with people these days. I've never been very good at sending personal email on a regular basis, but I can take part in community discussions without really thinking about it. One seems very easy whilst the other seems quite hard. And yet both involve sitting in front of a screen typing words into the computer. Still doesn't make sense to me.
Anyway, so yesterday morning, the news servers at _both_ of my ISPs were down. This has never actually happened before. dircon is usually 99% reliable, and PlusNet aren't too bad either. I was online - and I didn't know what to do! So I set this journal up on a whim. A few minutes after I finished typing up my second entry yesterday, news.plus.net sprang back into life, and I read news for a couple of hours, before deciding to go to bed sometime around 3pm. My plan was to go to bed around 3pm and sleep for a couple of hours, getting up again about 7.30pm so I could go to see my friend's band. This didn't happen.
Just as I was going to bed Andi (fluffkitten) logged onto irc. All of us on #soc.bi were worried about her because she was having an operation on Wednesday morning, so I couldn't just say hi and log off - I had to make sure she was OK. It turned out that she was absolutely fine, a bit spacey but not in too much pain and apparently recovering well - and I was pleased about this - but then by the time I actually went to bed (only maybe 15 minutes after I'd first meant to go) I was overtired, and I just couldn't get to sleep. I lay in bed and dozed, because I was too tired to do anything else, but I don't think I actually fell asleep at all. When Richard phoned me about 7ish to get me out of bed, I decided that I didn't actually feel well enough to go to the gig.
In the end, I went to Starbucks (to get a cream frappuccino) and to the shops (to get some food). I went home, put the food in the oven, read yesterday's paper, ate the food - and by the time I'd done all that it was 10.45 and Richard was home. He'd eaten on the way back, so we snuggled for a bit, and then I went to bed.
I woke up again about 5.30am. This isn't something I'm used to doing. I am most emphatically _not_ a morning person. But despite still being tired, I couldn't get back to sleep, and nothing seemed to help.
It was a beautiful morning when I woke up. It's clouded over a bit now. Summer mornings always make me wistful, but that's another story. I'm going to post this before I start trying to explain...