Possibly Go Wrong
Friday. And so to bed after eleven, having watched Elementary last night, another episode in the humanizing of Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson on the job. I keep watching so there's something about it I like. Find it entertaining. Useful, perhaps, in my own humanization, my own ongoing adjustment to life's little foibles and upsets.
Off to breakfast on a cool but not too cool overcast morning. A large breakfast this time that I wasn't able to finish, the weight still skating a couple of pounds under target. This is good, we're told. Better than an alternative.
Maybe a bus downtown to pick up some necessary items at the pharmacy? I'm short on one of the vitamins. If I were serious I'd sneak in a trip to the supermarket too, but I'm too obviously not. Serious. Getting my head around getting into the car is an effort. I'm not yet sure why, I just am, and I don't spend a lot of time fighting it.
You were just talking about how things seemed to be “coming together” yesterday.
They are. They seem to be, but one clunky step at a time. No need to push, just watch, let it happen. Perhaps the now ominous car is on the list and may one day become less sinister. Driving is easy, it's just getting into the damned thing that's nagging.
Later. A brief nap, a walk to the morning restaurant for a walnut fudge brownie and coffee (best I'd skipped that brownie after the stomach had a discussion with me about it later), a walk back to futz with the man cave living room furniture to make room for the new guitar and to settle down and practice.
Later still. An odd afternoon, the sinuses acting up, more pain than anything else. Nothing over the top, it's never over the top, but definitely there to slow me down. Time on the guitar(s): good. An attempt at a nap: also good. A walk to the 7-11 look-alike for chips, bean dip, cashews and whiskey: dicey. A small three shot bottle of Jack Daniels, the first in months. We are feeling frisky. And the sinuses are hurting. Whiskey in this instance can help. He said.
Evening. So far, so good. The chips, bean dip and peanuts have been consumed, the whiskey has gone down the gullet and the sinuses are dialed back and keeping to themselves. One or two things on television I managed to watch as I was practicing and now to bed at a reasonable hour. So far, so good. What's the problem?
Tomorrow might teach you a lesson about whiskey and bean dip, if not sooner.
With the sinuses quiescent, the attitude elevated and an early to bed in sight? Surely not. It's Friday the 13th, what could possibly go wrong?