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Near Jack London Square, Oakland

April 30th, 2001

Where I Come From
Monday. Oakland.

Just like that: Ten days, 2,100 miles, go to sleep, wake up and I'm back in Oakland. Life speeds along. It's morning. The third load of laundry is in the wash. Wuss is lying on my lap. My head is its usual fuzzy self and I am looking at what what I need to get done today: Return the car, go buy a bed, do the laundry. Two out of three wouldn't be bad. I've got to return the car. Man, I am tempted to just "click" on a web bed and see what it sleeps like when it arrives, but I know I won't. There's a Sears store on my way to work. They're open late. They sell beds. I'll at least look. Not today, tomorrow. On the way home. I'm sure they deliver. I have plenty of money, I just don't have.... Well, shit! I don't have a bed and I can't sleep and I don't seem to want to do anything about it!.

I slept pretty soundly on the road. Nothing special in the way of beds. Motel beds, sister's mattress on the floor of an extra bedroom bed, MSM's bought because her mother was coming for a visit spare bedroom bed. Slept like the dead. My own damaged beyond repair bed remains in place. Do you detect a pattern? I'm talking about buying a condominium and I can't even get it together to buy a bed? Does my health plan cover, um, psychiatric counseling? Electro-shock therapy? Beds?

Later. Returned the car to Avis in Jack London Square and walked up Broadway to drop off the film Jack London Square at the camera shop across from the office. I avoided the office. The black and white will be ready tomorrow, the color on Wednesday. Ten days, three rolls. Doesn't surprise me, but I'd taken along 40 rolls knowing I could always buy more if the shooting got hectic. Three rolls. The weather outside is beautiful, t-shirt weather, and the walk back to the apartment was augmented by a ride on a bus. Stopped for coffee down near the base of my hill at a cafe I visit occasionally. If the world looks any different, if I feel any different, if I'm ready to plunge back into the office, I do not know. I do not know. You spend ten days off somewhere - doesn't matter where - you come back with an idea of what you'd like to change. A New Year's list. I've been feeling tired and fuzzy headed for the last months. Do I feel tired and fuzzy headed today? Yeah.

I log into the San Francisco State web site and look over my PhotoShop homework. The type seems fuzzy. (Note to self: get eye exam. Solution to ills could lie in a pair of glasses.) It is hard to read the lessons online. I don't want to read the lessons, I want to climb into my (broken) bed and take a nap. This isn't progress. Fortunately I have purchased a can of Guinness for dinner, all part of a new health program, and this may well give me a legitimate reason to want to crawl into bed and take a nap. Get my diseases and symptoms straight. No beer drinker has ever had reason to wonder about a fuzzy head. Not where I come from.

Two photos taken near Jack London Square. The quote is by Fran Lebowitz