Thursday. We are starting to feel like a human being now that it's afternoon. To bed last night about the usual time, I was wondering why I didn't feel more tired after little sleep the night before, but up at nine-thirty rather than six-thirty, so that made a difference. At least I assume it made a difference. A drive to breakfast and the papers with about two of six cylinders popping, back to catch up on the email and related stuff, here now to start this and think about going out later for a walk.
You hear about the mornings starting slowly for old farts and maybe this is just a confirmation, you burn the candle at more than one end and it takes longer to come around. OK. I don't do sleep deprivation tests more than once in the lifetime (I hope), we'll assume we'll get it back on track today. Take it easy, I'm seeing that's a good idea at the moment, practice the guitar (sitting there twanging away on six strings turns out not to be overly exhausting), take my walk, a short walk if necessary, keep to a halfway sensible rest of the day diet, get to sleep on time, prognosticate as little as possible and don't go off my internal cool should I find myself standing, waiting in a line.
Keep the prognostication to a a minimum?
Well, maybe I meant to say keep the procrastination to a minimum, I don't otherwise see being able to keep my mouth shut. Just remember I take it all with a grain of salt, taking things with a grain of salt is an important pillar of my prognostication house, a pillar of that particular porch made on purpose of stronger timbers and longer nails.
Later. In this never ending life of naval gazing, we seem to have gotten out on our walk, taken a bus downtown, shot two desultory pictures, one sitting at a table in the City Center, the other walking down Broadway heading back home, eventually intercepting another bus and sitting now here in the apartment thinking sleep. Just, you know, cruising along in the bubble, a bubble like many another of my bubbles, this one spinning to our need for sleep. Bleep! Bleep! A nap, yes, and then a session on the guitar. Keep it on the rails.
I'm getting better at fingering those three chords, by the way. I can see progress - slow, very slow - but measured, real. Will it lead to the playing of actual tunes? Seems improbable, but remember, we're not worrying about that for the while. We're just, you know, following the lessons, picking the strings. And deciding whether or not to buy that flaming red guitar strap from Amazon to go with our (rented) electric yellow instrument. As I said, keeping it simple, here in our light headed bubble on a sunny Thursday afternoon in June.
Later still. OK, lie down, listen to a little radio, get up, play a little guitar in front of the PBS News Hour. We can do this. The day is going well, it's just that it's a day to take it easy and prepare for more important things such this coming Friday and an early morning breakfast.
That's it? Important? Early morning breakfast?
You learn with time what's important. A nice early morning breakfast reading the papers is important when compared to most anything when you're feeling not all that well. Diddle-dee-dell.