Nocturnal Visitors
I’m still of a mind that getting a visitor in the night, joining me while I’m asleep is still a positive thing. I suspect most people are. Of course the visitor that is welcome is usually of the same species. Perhaps a canine or feline, though, they do the positive vibe thing, too.
However, the visitor stealing in to cuddle me in my sleep, wasn’t human, canine or feline. At least it wasn’t an insect or reptile either. No, it wasn’t even corporeal. The visitor sneaking into my bed in the dark of night was that insidious miscreant that has been dogging my life more and more lately. Yep. A-fucking-Fib. Jiminy Cricket, man! I was sleeping! Not doing anything, and BOOM! I’m awakened by a chest pound, and it’s off to the races. Gotta say, I am so ready for the ridding attempt, that I can count the days. It can’t come soon enough for me. I know success isn’t guaranteed, but I’ll take the odds.
Otherwise, it’s been a chill time here in PTY. Not doing much. Running the Malecón before dawn. I thought I was heat and humidity adjusted as I journeyed south through Central America, but El Sal, and Nica pale in comparison. Holy Sweat, Batman. Even my shoes are squishy after thirty minutes. I’ve also been enjoying evenings with friends from the past. And, during a hike in the Metropolitan Park, I saw a sloth! Ok granted, the park is basically rainforest that has been left alone, but still, it’s surrounded by urbanization. How cool is that?!
Panama City is much as I remember from a few years ago. A few new buildings, but the ones I remember are still here, though at least one has been rebranded. Last time I was here, that twisty bad boy didn’t have a name at the top. The other one? It could be called the Lipstick Building, if one’s mind wasn’t in the gutter coming up with an alternative.
I’ve been invited to join a Hash House Harriers run tonight. That should be a splendid time as I stagger along at the back of the pack o’ harriers, looking like I’m having a heart attack. Hopefully, the run will do its usual trick and shut down the evil rhythm. In my head (odd place that that is), the two are like Steve Martin’s character Navin in The Jerk before and after getting rhythm.
Since it’s a Hash run there will be beer. I’ll enjoy that at the end of the run either way. One one side, it’ll be a reward for ridding myself of the Afib, or on the other, it’ll be a consolation prize for not. Winner, winner either way, eh?
Be kind and take care of yourselves. If you can, care for someone else, too.
Slang, out.