110526 Thu 10:36

A restless night of anxiety dreams: being summoned into the office of the Apotek and told, in the most kindly polite way, that they could no longer fill my prescriptions without full payment. This is actually not far from likelihood, although it will probably be handled much more clumsily. Instead of arguing for my Residency, which all acknowledge I should have, they just retreat into the rule-book (and cover their own butts: human nature). But I told myself I would not write about money in my journal, and I won't, even when it haunts my dreams. Sleeping is such a mixed blessing anyway when you reach my age; every fourth or fifth night I sleep like an adolescent and wake refreshed. Otherwise it's like bobbing up and down on a sea that refuses to engulf me. That's when the dreams come, and the stomach-aches, and the leg cramps. But it's rarely bad enough to simply give up. I always still manage to extract some rejuvenation from the six hours; changing position and drifting off for another hour. It's probably just as well I don't have a bed-mate, although maybe such a one would provide the security I need to sleep soundly.