Sunday. Well, obviously I've done no photographic preparation for Christmas. The photo behind the logo has a Christmas theme, but it's not a very good photo. Up early, the proto sore throat still in evidence, but orange juice and diet Coke seem to have tamed it. Maybe it has something more in store for tomorrow. The head feels like shit and I think more pills wouldn't hurt.
This has been going on way too long, of course. Even in my altered state I can go back and read earlier entries and realize I'm not quite functioning. Headache this, headache that. Is it getting worse, is it getting better? Sometimes it's OK, but most times it's not. Is it getting incrementally worse and I'm not noticing it? I wonder. So I'll go back into the doctors and see what they have to say. Either that or stop the moaning.
Still not a bad day for that. No tsunami's; no armies, foreign or domestic, parked out in front of the apartment; nearby hungry children hidden away and not in evidence. I've not gone to the family party in Seattle (tomorrow). I believe my sister mentioned this to my cousin, but I suspect she didn't (because she didn't know until recently) and I've been very rude in not communicating. MRE invited me to Christmas dinner with mutual friends and I wasn't willing to commit. MSM, old friend enough to be considered family, invited me to dinner and I said yes and then cancelled at the last minute.
I am not sitting here feeling sorry for myself, four days to ponder the questions of art and life have always been my idea of a good time, but it's time I did something to turn my head around or I'm going to continue to be one hell of a dull fellow. This journal has become a definition of “one hell of a dull fellow”. I sense New Year resolutions germinating.