Better Is Better
Saturday. To bed last night relatively late, a fitful but decent night's sleep and NO CHILLS. Maybe just the slightest precursor to the slightest precursor - a whiff of “what is that?” - that never would have gotten notice under normal circumstances, so altogether I think we're (knock, knock) out of the woods. So to speak. Hup.
The t-shirt somewhat damp as I awoke, that's been the case now for the last week, so there's been a slight fever. I should probably get a thermometer for the next one that will one day inevitably arrive. I don't think it's the weather, the damp t-shirt thing, although the days have been unseasonably warm. Nah. What am I thinking? Unseasonably in the sense they've been setting daytime records, but nothing to think about at night. Fever, but a low level fever. I'm babbling again.
So we're on the right track. We'll shoot some pictures later if only at the farmers market. Then again, maybe catch up on that sleep that seemed so fitful last night, get further along with this recovery and not make any stupid mistakes. (hup!)
Photograph the farmers market.
Stop babbling. Just relax. Take a nap.
Later. A walk finally along the lake and then through the farmers market to the morning café for coffee and a bun. A nice brisk morning under a bright sun. I'd set out at first wearing a long sleeved shirt, but returned to the apartment to add a light jacket. Still a bit early for just a shirt. They're saying in the upper seventies again later today. In February. I'm certainly not complaining, but this is odd, even for here. Everybody's thought more than once by now about next year's water supply.
There was a dancing/exercise group working out in the area in front of the white columns when I was returning. These folks have been active (along with other groups - South American originated dancing and such) on the weekends now for some time. I've read about some of it, but not seen or experienced it other than taking the occasional picture and checking what seem to be similar activities in the local exercise clubs. I suspect (well, hell, I know) the current young adult culture has markedly changed since I was last in the demographic. No complaining from me, old farts are always old farts, and more power to them, they need to create their own boundaries and make their marks (while befuddling the old farts - I'm so fucking P.C.)
So we're still a little slow, but the head is reasonably clear and I'm looking forward to the weekend. Not so much the guitar, but that will come together too. Doodle-dee-do.
Later still. Not bad. Slow, but slow in the way a discharged battery that's now recharging is slow. Everything works, but the amperage is down. More sleep is needed and there's not much interest in walking, but that's expected. I'll know soon enough when I go back to read this in a few days to see if it makes any sense. Hard to hide from the truth when your own words greet you in gibberish.
Evening. So: slow, tired and ready for bed. But better. Better is better.