With It Yet
Thursday. Woof! To bed last night after nine, having gone to the sushi place to have a bit of sake, spicy mussels and frozen green tea cheese cake to celebrate the phone call from the neurologist. To bed at nine, up at nine this morning to trundle off to my haircut appointment downtown, taking the papers with me so I could take the bus all the way back afterward to my morning café to read them over breakfast. Doing all this, I must admit, dragging my ass.
Back from breakfast at noon to take another nap, an on and off nap that lasted for something like two hours, up now before three, the world seemingly coming together now for the first time today. What's that about? Getting into your late sixties? I suggested that receiving messages of one's mortality in the form of the bone scan I had Tuesday had a much greater subconscious effect than anything your intellect may feel and it could be today's feeling battered and bruised is a symptom that demonstrates it. I had some sake last night, but the usual amount, two drinks, felt fine after, felt no symptoms I'd associate with drinking this morning, just drag assed tired.
Still, now that all this is behind us for now, perhaps best to get back to my normal form of stream of consciousness bitching about little and nothing much. Reality has had its day now for long enough. We've cancelled our meeting later today at Rockridge again, Mr. E experiencing the after effects of having a tooth pulled on Tuesday and my schedule is now clear through the weekend. If I want to take a nap, I can take a nap. If it's nippy outside, I can stay inside. If I want to drive to Denver, I can drive to Denver.
But you won't.
I have no idea where that came from, but the mood seems to be picking up.
Later. Late afternoon, the head clearer, the attitude much better. An hour or so on the guitar (you don't feel like playing guitar when you're wasted, at least not this get up in the morning old guy kind of wasted) listening now to the news in the background. Maybe think about this listening to the news business, maybe it's more depressing than I realize. Play more music on the radio, play more music from the record collection (CD collection, MP3 collection, not sure what the all inclusive term is yet), sit here in the peace and quiet. Or can I do that? Peace and quiet. Sounds vaguely disturbing, something you'd go to a doctor to correct.
You do feel better.
I do. Just don't quite know what to do with it yet.