Back And Forth
Tuesday. To bed at a decent hour, up with the alarm without any problem and off to breakfast, sitting there at the table reading the paper and thinking how clear headed I felt. This is a normal course of events: up with or without the alarm feeling rested or tired, but reasonably clear headed over breakfast. It's only later in the mornings things develop, if they're going to develop, and they usually don't last very long.
So I guess hope springs eternal, try to find a way around these episodes during the day (the body will have to find a way around with very little cognitive expertise on my part) and plan for the best.
Don't give up on photography, don't make any assumptions you're going to be laid up with this stuff in the near future and give up on photography quite yet.
Something you've thought of?
A rationalization of the moment to justify the order I just placed for another piece of camera gear this morning. A hint of coming buyer's remorse. Irrational behavior combined with feeling a bit speedy.
Later. A walk over to the lake with a long lens on the camera thinking if it's going to rain as they're projecting to start tomorrow, best I get in what walks and pictures I can, seeing one lone scoop loader active over at the apartment site as I was setting out.
Alright, speedy me, clear headed, how was this walk going? Anything like other walks that have started out as they began with the vision doing odd and unsettling things? No, but.
Well, I was paying particular attention after the thoughts I had this morning and, indeed, walking over to and then briefly along the lake, taking one or two pictures (not many birds or people about), I did notice the odd delayed vision thing starting up again and so turned back by the apartment construction site and home. Nothing over the top, but then again, something was starting.
So, home, sit down to work on the pictures, which I started to do and then realized I wasn't quite sure what I was doing or how to go about doing it. A familiar if bad sign. I'd noted one of the small familiar sparkly blobs growing larger when I closed my eyes. Not visible with the eyes open, but a telltale sign.
To bed feeling disconnected. Don't know how to otherwise put it, but a feeling I've never felt before except when having one of these things, I suspect they can't be described. I can read this and understand, but only because I've been through the experience. Odd.
Anyway, not thinking I was feeling tired, lying down turning on and then turning off the radio (who were these people, why am I listening to them, why have I ever listened to them in the past?), awakening maybe forty-five minutes later and feeling just fine. Those scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast (with Strawberry jam, no butter) for breakfast? The coffee. How many times have I asked this question, how many times will I ask it again?
Maybe until you stop eating scrambled eggs for breakfast?
Who knows? Feel pretty good again, the “episode” finished, the afternoon guitar lesson will now probably go pretty well. No lunch before I go, lunch or a lunch/dinner after, we'll take no chances. It's not the end of the world having one of these things, they're not all that horrible, I'm not dangerous to my surroundings or to myself, so let's hope they stay as they've been: fewer and fewer, less intense over time except now and again.
It does have an effect on the photography. I can remember looking through the viewfinder at the scoop loader and thinking how can I take a picture of this to show that it's moving? This thought coming in the form of an “aha!” moment, as if it were somehow unique and important. Not a thought you'd have or pay particular attention to, certainly not in the form of an “aha” moment if your head was straight.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
As I said.
Later still. The sun out, the bus almost on time, a ride downtown to the lesson where I fumbled through with almost flying colors. Well, let's say my instructor didn't throw anything at me while I was playing. We're oversensitive based on some of our earlier adventures on clarinet when a teenager, my instructor is a paragon of patience.
Back now feeling fine, no sign of the morning whatevers, time for spaghetti, the news and the guitar. I'm often pretty charged after a lesson and my best practice days tend to come right after. Best to grab as much as I can while I can.
Evening. Zip on television, nothing I want to watch on Netflix and so to bed early again. Nothing scheduled, nothing to look out for or think about for the rest of the week, good on the one hand, no stress; but perhaps bad on another, nothing to provide focus. Back and forth, back and forth.