Seems To Believe
Saturday. Another early to bed evening to get up with the alarm and head off to breakfast on another overcast but rain free morning.
Later. I'm not quite sure the day has started yet, although it's noon. A walk along the lake, through the farmers market and then on to the ATM on Lakeshore at ten, the day still dark and overcast (and cold!) with not all that many people out walking and shopping.
The sinuses and upper palate were rumbling, giving me a wobbly standing on a slippery surface feeling, no vertigo as such, but then again I was paying more attention to my head than my surroundings. Leads, at a minimum, to poor picture performance, not carrying the camera in hand but over the shoulder.
On to the morning café for an apple turnover, ice cream and coffee, not much inspiration there, although there really wasn't anything else on their menu I felt I could eat. I hadn't been all that hungry earlier at breakfast and I'd felt guilty at what I'd left on my plate.
Anyway, that's the way the day has started, the sun coming in briefly now for the first time through the balcony door. I went through a list of things earlier that might interesting to do, one thought involving a beach under a tropical sun, not feasible, but appealing. That kind of thinking is like skipping stones that you know full well will sink out of sight at the end when their trip is finished.
One or two pictures on the way back trying to get a sense of the birds sitting on on the lake, not sure where they're from or where they're going, a picture of the stump for reasons I may never understand, a sticker on a wall (I have no idea who she may be) and of a missing cat.
From the number of fliers posted along Grand lately, there seems to be a lot of local cats that have gone missing, one reason I long ago stopped letting my own cats roam beyond the front door. Too many cars, too many predators, no desire to bury another companion in a back yard.
None of this sounds good. Maybe just stop, start again when the mood or at least the pictures are better?
The mood is grey, but far from black. Ambivalent. On an overcast (cold for California) winter morning.
Later still. Much the same, a slow day, little or no ambition to do anything much, the sinus-upper palate still wobbly. OK, at least the sun is shining and they're saying it will stay around through the rest of the year, although with some 20% chance of rain tomorrow. The guitar is tuned, let's see if we can at least climb on top of it.
Evening. I guess I was roped in by that last episode in the House series I'd watched a week ago Thursday, as I opted to watch it at six to see how it was resolved rather than watch the police procedural, the German language set in Venice affair, one I haven't seen before. Then again it runs again at nine, so I guess we're covered.
Worse yet, once I'd actually waded through that first episode of House starting at six and seen how it was resolved (in his favor, how could it not?), I realized life is too short to be sucked into such stuff when you could be, well, doing something, almost anything else. How many years has it taken me to learn this (again)? How many minutes before I forget?
Beyond that: some guitar, but not enough, we'll see if we can't do more. Feel better after two shots of Jack Daniels, well, actually three, we'll see if we keep it to that, a bit of mystery still left in the evening. That set in Venice police procedural does start again at nine, but I'm thinking maybe it's time for bed instead as Mr. Daniels too seems to believe.