The pile of books on the bookcase in our bedroom is growing larger. Books to read before I go to sleep at night. Real books not on an ereader.
Pratchett, Herriot, Cornwell, Stewart, all books I have read and need to move so I can read something new. I recently found my thesis on pre Christian celtic art. I wanted to take it downstairs but I forgot so it’s on the pile. Plus photos from years ago, on the top of the bookcase and on the wall. Real photos printed on paper. I have lots of albums of them on top of a wardrobe, which is like a closet but is made of wood with doors.
The elephant in the room is my cpap machine. It’s an air pump that pumps air through a face mask at slightly higher pressure than normal. I wear it at night to keep my airway open. It forces air through my mouth and nose so my airway doesn’t collapse and stop me from breathing. When you are asleep you don’t have control of your muscles and they can become slack and collapse at the back of your throat. Hence the machine.
OK so I’m not that old. It’s just this paraphenalia that makes me Feel old. But I guess I’m lucky. I was diagnosed Now all I do is read a book till I’m sleepy to take my mind off the mask.