Thursday. The thirtieth day of the month, the fiftieth day and the first day of the eighth week since the operation, does any of it mean anything? Numbers as sign posts? Numbers as predictors? Sign posts, I suppose. Better the first day of the eighth week as opposed to the first day of the seventh, given how things have been improving I'm a thinkin’. If I'm thinkin’
A reasonable night's sleep so I'm reasonably coherent. No complaints. Not sure if I'll get out later for a walk, but I suspect it's not all that important. A day on, a day off, the day off rebuilding whatever was expended the day before. If that makes sense. It's been hard to make out what makes sense these last fifty days, these last eight weeks. Here in Oakland.
Later. Lots of press about Swine flu lately. I'm wondering if people will stop going to (crowded) restaurants later as this thing progresses if it progresses. People doing their food shopping in a space suit? My closet is pretty short on space suits. Exciting stuff. How much is smoke and mirrors? A lot. Unless it's not. Too much excitement. Still, if I were to buy a case or two of tuna fish delight to stash in my closet. A lot of pasta. I seem to recall you can have stuff like this delivered by people wearing hospital masks. Indeed. But here in Oakland?
Later still. A walk down the way to the morning breakfast place around three to have a small cup of coffee and a cookie while sitting and watching the people walk past. A bit tiring that walk. A bus ride home to take the rest of the day easy. Easier. Mustn't get ahead of myself I'm thinkin’.