I've never really been fond of Mothers day. Mothers day has always just been a day of painful reminders. Today though, I've been doing a lot of thinking about a lot of things, not least of them being my mother. My mother passed away when I was four years old and I have very little memory of her. The few memories that I have from my early childhood are not altogether pleasant. I think that was becuase I didn't want to remember good. If I only remembered the bad, then I wouldn't miss it so much. I talked with my brother a bit today, just swapping memories. He remembers things very differently than I do, probobly more accurately too. Life was good back then. It really was. I had a wonderful mother. My brother has one vivid memory of making breakfast for my mother, we must have probobly three or so I suppose. Our older sister would have been eight or nine. I don't remember this incident at all, but he recalls dumping cereal into a bowl and spilling it all over the ground, and then drowning the whoole mess in milk. Our sister must have done something else too. But then we brought breakfast in to our mother and she was just thrilled. He remembers her smiling really big and then hugging him. I always wonder why he remembers some things so vividly, and I don't remember them at all. Or other memories that we both remember, we remember completely differently. Memory is a complicated thing, and frequently I wish that I weren't plagued by it.

So anyways... Happy Mothers Day to all you mothers out there. And to my mother. Even though she's not around, I hope that wherever she is, she gets something special for Mothers Day too.   And mothers, promise me that you will love your children. Give them lots of good memories to remember.

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Well, I'm tired. I have good reason to be tired. I get up early to go to work, I work hard all day, I end up sore and exhausted after work, then I come home and keep working. My body is used to getting very little sleep, so its not really all that big of a deal. But then the problem comes when I have some extra time and I want to get a decent amount of sleep for once. I lie in my bed... and wait. Usually I get to sleep fairly quickly, but I also usually go to bed about 1 am or later. I tried to go to bed just after 10 this evening... finally I gave up. Sleep is something that I really don't understand. I do not enjoy it. I hate going to bed, and I hate waking up, and I hate sleeping in, and I hate sleeping in general. It probobly doesn't help that I am frequently awakened by intrusive nightmares. I ought to be used to them, I've been having them for as long as I can remember, but it doesn't stop them from being rather obnoxious. Actually I escaped the dreams for a little while, but they are back, and just as bad as they ever were. I enjoyed the break, I guess I should be grateful. This is a pretty pointless blog, I was just trying to pass the time until my body would allow me to get some of that sleep that I need and hate. The way I see it, sleep is like an addictive drug. I love it and hate it at the same time.  I feel like I can't live without it, I sure wish I could, but am not willing to make an attempt.

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