There In Everywhere
Sunday. Up this morning at eight, a somewhat uneven night's sleep, waking up briefly from this dream and that in order, I guess, to turn over from one side to the other. Is this a product of age? You don't turn over in your sleep anymore, you have to awaken and consciously move yourself around to get comfortable again? Aching legs and such? Maybe. Been happening now, on and off to some degree, for the last few years.
Still, get up, take the various meds, go to (a large) breakfast (I was hungry), back now at the apartment with many things to accomplish before I set out for Portland late tomorrow morning. I'm tempted to wait on the mail to arrive Monday as I have a check coming, but we'll see. If it didn't come yesterday, why would it come tomorrow, thinking of the logistics of the thing? Plenty to do to get ready starting with a trip to the store for cat food and large plastic freezer bags. No photographer should set forth without large plastic freezer bags filled with the things that make his cameras work. Those and toothpaste and such. They're versatile.
Later. Still morning, of course, but back from Safeway, cat food and zip lock bags in hand. A simple, easy drive to and from, in and out, why all the foot dragging? A little testy, testy for me, anyway, I don't know how it is with other people, standing in line behind someone who moves in slow motion as if (he or she) had never used a card swipe device before, asking strange questions for someone a member of the twenty-first century. What's my problem? You know, I'm good at the go slow, take it as it comes Zen thing on my own, why these dumb little episodes? Nothing you'd see outwardly, of course, I don't generally get testy in the sense of actually saying anything or using body language or tone of voice to convey my frustration, but why go through it at all? Life is short, most of it has nothing to do with how quickly you travel through a check out line.
Cranky old man?
Well, you get all wound up in your idea of how you think other people should their thing in public. Use the turn signals when you're approaching a light so the guy (me) behind you has a chance to move to the right and pass comfortably by. Driving at four miles an hour in the passing lane. Why? This was a short drive to the grocery store, what's the fuss? It's not hard to see others have different attitudes about many things, let them be, your ideas or no better than theirs. It's a biological, cultural, whatever business, not the end of the world. I understand people take it really easy in New Orleans (even after Katrina) and they're considered more relaxed and happy than any other state in the nation. (California comes in next to last.)
Move to a slower paced community. Get you lungs away from the freeways and the diesel burning ships and trucks at the port.
Ah, now you're pushing my buttons. If I had an ounce of gumption I'd pay attention.
Later still. OK, one task at a time. Each one makes one less on the list. My little “testy” soliloquy may or may not get me to take the full three days driving up the coast (I will, I will), but I don't seem to be able to tap it for this immediate list of things that need to be done before I leave. Get the laptop in order, move files from the main computer, charge the extra battery, make sure I have access to everything I need on the road. OK, that's well under way. Clean Ms. Emmy's cat box. OK, that's next. Pack the camera bags. Next after that.
Doesn't sound so bad. It's only one, plenty of time left to finish them up.
Maybe you're right. I said the cat box is next? I really said that?
Later yet still. Cat box, took less than five minutes. How many minutes have I spent thinking about doing it? But you know the routine. We all know the routine. Moving files to the laptop, updating software. I don't use the laptop very much other than on trips and it's easy to go out the door unprepared. We do not like to go out the door unprepared. Then some battery charging, packing the cameras (I've done much of this already, shouldn't be all that stressful) and then on to pack the clothes, most of the clothes, the remainder tomorrow morning.
Breakfast at the usual place tomorrow, let the waitresses know I'll be out of town for a while (information, I'm sure, that will cause them much distress), and then, well, on the road by, say, ten. The highways reasonably clear with the commute pretty much finished is my rationalization. We'll see how many of the motels are booked as I travel. It is Christmas, others are making their own moves I would think, out there in Everywhere.