Wednesday. Although I didn't get to bed until one-thirty, I was wide awake this morning before seven and went to the usual place to have breakfast and read the papers. Sitting here at nine I'm thinking of taking a nap (surprise), the head buzzing in a nice spacy kind of a way (as opposed to the usual not so nice spacy kind of a way) brought on, I think, by the lack of sleep. I have much that needs completing before tomorrow when the month is out. Well, not so much to be completed, but things I've been putting off until the very last minute so it's important to actually get them done.
Later. There are piles of paper on and around my desk, but the “stuff” is in the mail along with season four of The Wire. It's late afternoon and I'm thinking, for lack of imagination, of taking another nap.
Later still. To bed, yes, but firing up the laptop listening to the radio rather than thinking of sleep. Maybe a bath and then a nap. I had two of the small flasks of sake last night, maybe I'll go out and get some more. Then again, maybe I won't.
The air filter, by the way, is humming along in the corner, the replacement pre-filters having arrived on Monday. Opening the thing for the first time I now see how the filters work, a “pre-filter” being nothing more than a sheet of air permeable plastic-like cloth that wraps around the much larger cylindrical small particle filter that takes up most of the room inside.
This “cloth” does indeed trap larger pieces of dust as the black turned to fuzzy grey original filter now in the trash demonstrates. So the air is psychologically if not actually cleaner here in Oakland. What's the difference between psychologically clean and really clean? Not much really until the time you begin to notice the lungs giving out. Not to worry, said the man on the hill.
Your man on the hill, not my man on the mountain. You get what you're willing to climb for (here in Oakland).
You can see we're treading water here. Why not just stop?