Friday. To bed just after nine, up with the alarm, the sky totally clear, the sun coming up over the horizon: to and back from breakfast now just after eight. Just like that.
No ill effects from the two glasses of sake I had yesterday afternoon, no desire at the time to open another of the four bottles remaining (cheaper by the half dozen). Other than that, the excitement so far for the day seems to be the two cent fall in the price of regular, it now having been just over a month since the last change of any kind. Whoop. And that. (I know, I know....)
With the clear sky it's been quite cold, was quite cold yesterday for an April California day, this the brief subject of conversation as I passed one of my fellow apartment dwellers when I returned. It at least confirms my thoughts yesterday: why so cold? Why sweater and a heavier coat required on a California spring day, the Bay Area spring and fall notorious for being warmer than their summers? I have no idea, I have no idea why I'm bringing it up - a couple of days chilly - what's the big deal?
I have no idea.
Nor do I. For once we're in agreement.
Later. A bus on a bright, clear morning to the ATM on Broadway feeling just fine, thank you, the eyes clear, the head clear, the attitude good to the point I was remarking on it as I was walking to the Rotunda building for a caramel latte. My, my. I could get used to this. I could. Be nice if it were a head's up on the future, but we'll go no further less we screw it up.
A run by the pharmacy for a big bottle of fiber pills (life is easier taking these once or twice a day, let me tell you) finding they had a 50% off on buying a second bottle sale. What the hell, easy come, easy go. I'd be buying that second bottle in two months anyway, might as well save the eight dollars. We've been thinking of the outgo lately, so these thoughts occur.
Back now as it approaches noon. Another walk before the day is through, I'd say. I was thinking of visiting Mr. W in San Francisco later, he's in the hospital again, still recovering from the head injury of some years ago. Not good. But I think Monday will be a better day to visit, this for no good reason other than, well, other than to avoid heading out to take buses and trains. I drove in days gone by, but I've been avoiding driving for reasons that are a little disturbing. Is this phobia going to get worse? Hard to say, but I can't necessarily envision seeing it getting any better, sitting here, cancelling the trip.
Could just be the phase of the moon, the phase of the sun, the price of gas, something transitory (except for the price of gas, of course.)
We have dribbled off into idiocy again. I should be more worried about that, I guess. Put it on the list.
Later still. Another walk, this time to the morning restaurant to try their ice cream, a new addition to their menu, one that will certainly work for me. Pastries are pastries, but I don't much find them all that enjoyable anymore, but ice cream is still good whatever's happened to the palate. So a scoop of green tea ice cream and a large cup of coffee (cut somewhat with water) out on their patio sitting under the sun. A nice way to have lunch and then spend half an hour.
Back now to maybe pick up the guitar and turn on the various news programs I seem to run continuously in the background. Something to break the silence (other than my mismanaged chords)? No complaints. Until the next paragraph. Of course.
Evening. So, still having four of the little bottles of sake sitting on the kitchen counter, how could I not sample them again? Well, yes, we're aware of all that, but in the real world now, my real world, how could I not? The effect has been much less than the effect I had last night (starting yesterday in the mid-afternoon, starting in the late afternoon today) and so I naturally went from two of the small bottles to three. Deedle-dee-dee. Still a nice buzz, not the best thing to be doing in the evenings with one's life (you might imagine), but rather nice. There's now but one bottle left. We'll see if it remains standing in the morning. It might.
Quite a bit of time on the guitar as I was watching to the various programs I follow in these evenings. Hard to keep track, as some of them change daily, some running two days a week, some five. What the hell, plink along with whatever it is that comes up. Particularly when you're feeling no pain. Plink, plink!
I take it we're in the middle of this feeling no pain as we're writing?
God is in Her heaven and the world is, well, just fine.