Now, how did I manage that

Yes, it's Sinna Luvva reporting at this unearthly sunlit hour. The reason: I'm simply aching in too many places to get back into bed. I seem to have developed a habit of turning onto my chest, arms deeply entrenched beneath the pillow. Somehow, this becomes a position of comfort during sleep-time hours; the real problem arises when I lock firmly into position when it's my desire to turn either onto my back or side.

The arms refuse to take the strain, the base of the neck and base of the spine scream their alarms but, somehow, after much careful manoeuvering I manage a recovery of sorts. By this time of course, both forearms are weightily tingling. Currently, I'm feeling physically shattered, having made a crablike descent to grab a glass of water but, undecided as to whether I have sufficient courage to get back into bed.

It feels so much better to get that, and myself, off my chest so to speak! I know that I slept, as shadows of some pretty vivid dreams remain etched in part of my conscious mind. If they were not dreams the scars have healed remarkably well!