Green Little Gremlins
Wednesday. To bed by ten, up with the alarm, off and back from breakfast at eight, the morning cold, but not as cold as earlier mornings have been this week. I think. They're saying we're due for temperatures to rise some fifteen to twenty degrees by the weekend and I'm ready. Starting today would be nice, but if not, then tomorrow. We're easy to please, floating along here in our little bubble: a little heat, a little sun, a picture or two.
Later. A walk that ended up heading along the lake and then off to the morning café for coffee, running into another photographer whom I run into now and again at the café in the early mornings, he having just received a new Canon digital camera Saturday. So some conversation about photography and photographs.
Feeling ambitious after talking over a cup of coffee, I walked up and over the hill on Mandana to the bank ATM on Lakeshore (hup! hup! puff! puff!) returning the long (and no hills to climb way) back along Lakeshore to the apartment before noon. We are hungry, but we're not able to think of a single thing we'd like to eat.
You're including me in your editorial “we”?
I can't think of as single editor, let alone an English teacher, who might approve of my particular abuse use of the editorial “we”, so maybe we'll call it the editorial “me”. And yes, my “we” includes thee. (Deedle-dee-dee.)
I could perhaps go for a sandwich.
Your vote won't count without a change in attitude.
Later still. A walk down to the local Domino's pizza parlour to try one of their pasta dishes, a “five cheese penne” that wasn't quite as bad as I feared it might when I got it home. Not that real people would feel the same way - the changed stomach-palate-inability to eat almost every fast food item I've ever eaten routinely in the past having dominated my diet now these now many years - but the penne against these odds was edible. Which is good.
Back home to take a nap, the outside temperature warmer, although I wasn't taking any chances and was well dressed against any possible level of cold. Anyway, a nap in the sense I drifted off into a haze without sleeping for an hour, but got up afterward feeling better as if I had. From good to better. Better is better.
It's late afternoon now, pick up the guitar (exhortation!) and get a start on today's practice, prepare for Friday's lesson. It's always exciting when you're nesting at the very edge of a large continent.
Evening. A decent amount of time on the guitar. Turned out there was nothing I could watch at six or at seven in the way of police procedurals. I have no particular fondness for police procedurals, as such, but that's what's on at six and sometimes following at seven around here in the evenings. I'll occasionally watch (usually) portions of one of the evening subtitled Korean soaps dramas, but only when I'm in a masochistic mood. I'm not at all fond of masochistic moods, even when they're delivered in a foreign language.
News programs in the background during the day when I'm here in the apartment, weird subtitled police procedurals in the evenings. Seems a bit, well, wiggy, if you think about it.
Where's this going?
One more good session on the guitar and then to bed is my guess. It's been a pretty good day for the sinus-upper palate thing, my thoughts over these last weeks that it may be going through beneficial changes are picking up. The nose seems to be, well, changing, needs to be cleared more often than it ever has in the past, air flowing where air hasn't flowed in a decade, the area of ache retreating. Could be.
I've been thinking it could just be the cold weather, as I don't have a cold or the flu, but then it could indeed be the nerves are finally coming together and the aching is receding, shrinking. Then again, by talking about it, I've undoubtedly screwed any chance for hope and I'll soon be disabused one of these mornings by the sinus gods and the green little gremlins who serve them.