The past week has had a general “sleep” theme.
One afternoon Lisa noticed that a lot of food in our cupboard had little chew holes in it, and a chuck was missing from a gold foil-wrapped piece of chocolate. Habemus Mice-um! I grew up in a hunting family, and despite having no desire to ever go hunting, the bloodlust of my ancestry surged, and I found myself bent on ending the life of this rodent who dared steal from me. Perhaps my higher metabolism and my current need to eat everything possible added to this food-theft-induced rage, but one mouse and one man were going to enter, and only one of us was going to leave. Fifel, welcome to The Thunderdome.
Round 1 went to the mouse. The traps I laid did not spring, and he feasted again on the fruits of my shopping labor. Lisa actually heard him ravaging a banana muffin wrapper one night, and we watched him scamper straight up our wall and disappear. This mouse is serious MI-6 material.
Round 2 went to the mouse. This time, he actually pooped on the trap, which again did not spring. If that’s not throwing down the mouse gauntlet, I don’t know what is.
In Round 3, I moved into the modern era of mouse traps. At 11:41 PM onSunday night, I could not sleep and was reading in the living room, and heard a loud SNAP! It turns out, that in man vs. mouse, the man only needs to win 1 round to win the contest. I performed mouse-last-rights and deposited him in the dumpster outside.
Even though I am getting up early for swimming, running, and core classes, I’m not always fully awake for a while, even while working out. Friday morning was an especially early run with Chris and Dan, starting at 5 AM and covering 10 miles. I had organized everything I needed for the next morning so I could get up as late as possible and think as little as possible. I was also trying out a fuel belt (that fastest way to look uncool while running) for the first time. About mile six, I realized that I was wearing the light knee brace on the wrong leg. I had put it on the wrong side. But, I proved that the other side can make it without the brace. A dip in chilly Barton Springs woke me up, but I kept laughing about how asleep I was the rest of the day.
Rats Next Door
To pile on some additional sleep debt, my next door neighbor likes to play music between 3 AM and 6 AM. I woke up and pounded on his door. He came to the door telling me that he didn’t have to turn his music down, and made the following brilliant arguments:
1) I spent a lot of money on my sound system
2) I am in the entertainment business and I get home early in the morning
3) This is my lifestyle and you can’t prevent me from living my lifestyle
4) I have a law degree
I had a hard time not laughing. It would have been easier if he had just declared himself a moron and spoken in gibberish. Some tiny cymbals clanging together would have been a nice touch. Then I would have been more sympathetic. It’s really pretty easy: The rules of our loft dictate you can’t play music at volume that can be heard outside the unit. I’m sorry that he wasted 3 years in law school, wasted who knows how much on his precious sound system, and has chosen a “lifestyle” that is simply, sad, but didn’t read the rules. The great thing is that our HOA can apply hefty fines and evict him if he keeps it up. I’m pretty sure if I wake up due to music while wearing earplugs and using a white noise machine, that you need to turn in down.
On a positive note, the disease that destroyed my kidneys is incredibly rare, and I never really expected any serious drugs or research to be dedicated towards treatment. But the other day in the news, a new drug is being tested for possible treatment of MPGN. While it can’t restore my old kidneys, if the disease ever recurred in me and attacked my transplant, this type of drug could possibly be effective in combatting the disease.