No, Really. Wow.
Thursday. The sun is shining, the sky is clear and it's projected to be in the mid sixties. I'm back from breakfast at the usual place and life should be wonderful. And it is. No, really. I simply add frustration and dread to the mix to maintain story line interest. Otherwise I'm eating grapes, drinking sake and having long seances with interesting women. You know this to be true, this is California.
A different way to start.
Indeed. Rub my back with some of that heather scented body oil, if you will, and pass another of those swell lemon flavored bon bons.
I do notice I've been wandering (we won't say staggering yet) from this to that these last many months. Remember the mat cutter and the framing project? I was going to pick up a work table I have in storage to bring the project along here at the apartment? The progress I was making on the taxes? Progress on cleaning out particularly dark and difficult corners of the apartment? Self portraits? Going from one to the next to the next? Well, they're all sort of there, still in progress, some of them further along than their brothers, but mostly I've been good about posting regularly here and little else. Or is this inordinately obvious?
You still a bit freaked about this operation you have coming up?
A bit, but you learn to live with it, live being the operative aspect. None of it is all that life threatening except psychologically although, sitting up here relatively comfortable in my apartment, psychologically fills most of my waking minutes. That and reading the news over breakfast.
Later. It is a very nice day and the energy has been good and I've driven to Alameda where my storage locker is located and picked up the little workbench on wheels without trouble. Well, I'd forgotten both the electric gate password and my key, thinking I had the locker secured with a combination lock I'd bought, but the attendant had a backup key for the door and now the workbench is sitting here in the apartment. Smaller than I remember, but here, much scrubbed (how did it get such a coating of crap sitting inside a sealed container?), but possible as a platform for the (larger) mat cutter. Wow. No, really. Wow.