Out There Not
Saturday. Ah yes, Saturday, a day when my morning café will be crowded unless I arrive quite early (and now that I'm retired I don't arrive quite early), crowded with those who work “on the other side”. How rude to even think such a thing, at least not so soon after joining the unemployed.
Do you care?
Well no. I noticed yesterday I didn't write my usual trite Friday paean to the coming weekend. Does one forget or does one adjust so soon? And (and this is more interesting) have I now changed my position on weekends with my comment that my café is more crowded and I will now begin to write glowing “I'm so happy weekend is over” screeds? Could be, but I doubt it. This is all new. Let it work itself out.
Later. Well, down the way finally to the usual café around one to have a chicken Caesar salad and a first (and last) cup of coffee of the day, the head funky all morning and mucho tired, although I got something like eight or nine hours sleep. So I'll go by the cardiologist early next week and see if my salt and deep fried pig fat diet has been stirring up trouble.
Otherwise, however, the attitude has picked up, the head clearer (perhaps due to the chicken Caesar and the coffee - can you have coffee withdrawal symptoms on a three cup a day habit?) and I'm up for futzing with the stack of crap on my (newly cleaned and uncluttered) desk. I'm not ready to vacuum the rugs, of course, not before more of it is visible after I get the crap that's covering it either into the trash or donated to someone weird enough to want it.
The morning, by the way, was overcast and reasonably cool, the late morning and afternoon sunny and warm, but cool enough with the breeze if you stayed in the shade (and had a nice Caesar salad at your local café). Or did you guess? Out there not in Oakland?