To Be My Own
Friday. Cross my fingers, knock on wood. Things are better, feeling good.
Let it drop.
I took a closer look at two movies that arrived today from Netflix. Hmmmm. One of them, The Man Who Wasn't There I own. How did I end up ordering it? The second movie, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil I've seen, saw it when it was released. Still, I can watch it again. I remember it was good and with my memory (this has always been true even in my salad days) I probably won't remember what it's building toward or how it ends until it gets there. I've made good use of this defect of mine in re-reading many a book I've liked first time through. You can be surprised again and again.
So are these the first signs my memory is going down the tube? Probably. I spent a good hour today tracking down my car tags so that I could affix them to my license plate and avoid being stopped. Why didn't I put them on when they first arrived? Why haven't I done anything these last six months other than the bare minimums required in semi-polite society? Well, because I'm retired and I've allowed myself to turn my brain off for sixty days and the sixty days isn't up yet. That and the fact I'm pretty fucked up. When these sixty days are finished I'll review this business again, this lack of answering email, this absolute submersion in my own ghetto of a head. But, of course, that's not for another 19 days. Forever, in other words. Party on!
What was that about?
Every now and then I get a glimpse of what I've been up to these last many months and a bit of the reality slips through the gate to give me a start. Am I depressed? Maybe, maybe not. My guess is if you have to ask the question you are, but what's any different about my condition today than it was, say two years ago? Yes this aching head-sinus thing has been going through its paces, I seem to teeter of the edge of it (the understanding of it, the doing something about it) without falling off. It does get in the way of my day to day existence (I'm not sure I would have thought of retiring when I did if it hadn't been around) but one hopes not forever now that my time seems to be my own. Here in Oakland.