Tuesday. Lots of coughing last night, the chest congestion I mentioned building over the last couple of weeks evolving, I guess, into something more. Still, the coughing eventually stopped, up early enough, breakfast at the usual place before driving over to the Summit Hospital area for an annual eye exam. They seem to be OK although they're a bit blurry at the moment. This is basically what I had on my plate for the week other than my image database project with some thought of measurable progress by the weekend. I discovered reading of the manuals seemed to be required. Reading the manuals? Finding them up on the computer shelf? Who would have thought.
Later. Still the congested lungs. No other signs of illness, no headache (other than the usual sinus-head thing), no runny nose, no fever, no nothing, but I can't lie down without coughing. My, my. Maybe if I were to go out and get some comfort food.
I've been hungry for the first time in some time. Eating isn't very interesting, being hungry doesn't really get me into the kitchen, but it does seem to focus on things I don't eat very often as in pizza (sorta), lunch meats and cheese with mayonnaise on white bread (or a nice baguette). Stuff like that. Maybe a pint of ice cream. Comfort food, the kind you shouldn't eat more than, say, once in a week and then not admit it. The stuff they serve at fairs, street festivals and food stores; KFC's, burger shops and taco parlors; baseball games, birthday parties and Irish bars, the stuff that's making the entire nation diabetic and fat. Good stuff like that.
You've taken your weight loss program too far.
Makes sense. Then again, the thought, the very act of actually eating any of it doesn't work. It doesn't taste good, it doesn't sit well, I can't eat very much of it.
Maybe that's how “skinny all their lives” people live: Doesn't taste good, doesn't sit well, can't eat very much.
I thought it was more like burning yourself with matches and such. Thin verging on anorexia. No eating anything that had a mother, no eating anything that wasn't grown in ground untouched by big pharma, Dow Chemical or dna monkeyed with by Frankenstein's daughter.
Later still. A nap, some coughing, a run down to the morning restaurant for a burger and potato salad, some of which I finished. Comfort food. Back and then another nap. The world is starting to come back into focus as the evening begins, though, maybe whatever this chest congestion is has run its course. Strange. Maybe a touch of swine flu with all my running around in crowds. It would be odd to have the real world poke its nose into my fantasy here in Oakland although I know from anecdotal evidence that it can and it does. It does.