Friday. Last night, I came home, crawled into bed and slept for twelve hours. I've been getting enough sleep (I think), but this is the first week I've been to work since November and there appears to be a price. You hear this clear as a bell from people with experience, but you never know until you know and now I can say, these things can be difficult. You get tired. You get cranky. You glance at yourself in the mirror and a rat looks back. Yes, here in Oakland. A rat. In a trap. At the end of the rainbow in the land of gold.
Saturday. Another twelve hours last night. I came home, wrote the above and crashed. You get up, you eat, you go to work, you notice you're not altogether happy, you go home, you crash. And burn. It has the advantage of being simple.
Later, after breakfast. Another nice day in Oakland. My first thought is not about shooting pictures, or to go out and eat (I've eaten), or to go to bed and sleep (I've been sleeping), or to watch television (what could possibly be on television?), or to listen to the radio, or write an entry. This entry. I am wrong, however, about bed and sleeping.