Up This Week
Monday. There's nothing special in starting another week, I suspect, unless there's some way to leverage off the fiction it means renewal, better sex and a great breakfast. Better, I'm thinking, to boost the attitude through fiction than pills. Is Monday all that horrible just because you're employed: the weekend finished, you yourself finished (depending on what you'd been up to the night before), starting another week now at the office? I've learned Sunday evenings can sometimes be rocky for me so maybe Mondays feel “good” if only in comparison. Better because I'm retired? Not really. Because a Monday tells a story of new beginnings? Could be.
As in beginning the laundry?
We are using the large cosmic brush here. No place for laundry.
I wouldn't suggest you mention that to your local Zen Master, my bucko. I suspect he or she would put a whole new perspective on laundry and how it fits into life's little “cosmic” perfections.
I'm going with this Monday as the start of a good day, a good week. Monday mornings are good mornings and Monday naps, both morning and afternoon, are two of life's precious gems, right up there with sake and corn syrup augmented ice cream.
Later. I am sitting here at the moment having had lunch at the crepe place, the vision a little blurred while I'm standing or walking these last few days; the head heading in its own direction, but the world quite solid as I sit here at a table. Doesn't mean anything, does it, trying to make sense of these symptoms? Whatever is he talking about? I myself won't be able to remember in another month, this particular set of symptoms, but perhaps that's life at sixty-five, here in Oakland.
Low blood pressure caused dizziness when you stand up?
I think that's it. It's about ninety over sixty at the moment (back at the apartment), where it was significantly higher this morning before I took my blood pressure pills. Awakening it was too high, especially considering I'd been flat on my back sound asleep. I take the pills in the morning and it drops like a rock and then when I get up out of a chair I have to stand there for a minute to let the world get its balance. But we'll continue to work on it: find another doctor, maybe; find another pill.
Oh. They laid down the first coat of paint over the stucco on the front of the building this morning. The manager is saying two more and then they'll wash it. I wonder how long it takes paint over stucco to dry? Will they come tomorrow? Wednesday? Finish everything up this week?