Monday. Up at, um, nine this morning, some two or three hours later than usual, to breakfast by nine-thirty, home now at ten-thirty; the sun full bore shining, the sky clear, the head reasonably clear, albeit the body a little tired. Some combination of these elements pretty much standard issue over this long last year. Let's see how the “feeling” I described yesterday of a load being lifted works itself throughout the coming week.
Later in the evening. I was planning on meeting some of the usual crew in San Francisco around four this afternoon but got a call from Mr. E saying everyone was gathering now at two-thirty. My, my. So I put myself together and waited on the 1:30 bus (which never arrived) and got on the bus scheduled for 2:00. (Well, 2:07, actually, but what matter seven minutes?) Back now at 7:30, four glasses of Guinness later. Not a murmur from the stomach, although I'd had a fall back plan of making an evening of diet Coke or water. Best to have a backup plan with a bad stomach. Was I an idiot? Probably, but the afternoon and early evening went reasonably well and delivered me home in time for my Korean soap.