More To Come
Monday. To bed last night after watching what turned out to be the last chapter of the Korean historical soap, finishing in fine maudlin soap opera fettle. Still, not bad for one of these things, I found the intricate political maneuvering of what was then essentially a tribal culture fascinating. Double, triple, quadruple crossings in every episode. Still, nice to have it over, no more staying up until eleven on the weekends. Unless they replace it with something as interesting. Not likely, but conceivable.
Anyway, up at six after spending another fifteen minutes in bed coming to consciousness after turning off the alarm, a good, clear headed trip to and back from breakfast to arrive home by eight. Spent some time on yesterday's entry correcting typos and the more egregious lapses in logic, something I do every morning. Sometimes you make a few corrections, sometimes a lot, sometimes you wonder who wrote the damned stuff. And wonder over some of the typos, how they seem to have come out more like dice than thought. They're different, they're interesting and they make for weird if not sloppy writing. Really sloppy writing, I'm not altogether unhappy with just sloppy (as you may have noticed).
Any writer who isn't offended by sloppy writing isn't a writer.
So maybe Q.E.D., we'll see. How many times have I said the day is starting well and then have the usual late morning, early afternoon, cement head set in? The sinus-upper palate is fairly quiescent, more so than on most days, and again the head is clear, the sky clear, the sun shining. I have a blood test to get (another MRI in the offing) and then my day will be done after a good long session on the guitar. Hup!
No more hups!
This thing is one long succession of hups! I'd become embarrassed myself if I weren't so numb.
Or dumb. No more excuses, they're even worse than hups!
Later. My, my. A quite nice late morning and now through into the afternoon. What happened? How do I distill whatever this is and put it in a pill? All good American things come in pills, do they not?
A walk to the hospital lab to have the blood test, two buses without a minute's wait between them coming back, a decent walk and exercise for the day, feeling fine. Some time finishing off another section of photographs for the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade on artandlife when I got home before walking down the way to the usual place for an egg salad sandwich and a can of diet Coke to cover lunch and dinner both.
No sushi and sake later?
On an up day like this? Certainly not! Not before six, anyway.
Evening. I generally avoid talking about the economy, the climate and such, as it gets me excited. I did notice, as I approached the Union 76 station earlier, they'd raised the price of regular this afternoon by two cents. It was $2.79 this morning, now it's $2.81. Have we reached a bottom and now we're on the way up? I wonder.
I have no confidence, given the train wreck in Washington, that the economy will pick up. Cutting down on spending will put even more people out of work. Goldman Sachs is projecting eight and three quarters percent unemployment in 2016, as if that made any kind of sense. You'd think the demand for gas would go down and therefore the price would go down, providing China and whomever out there in the “unbroken” world, doesn't continue to grow at a rapid pace. (China, for all its successes, has bubble trouble of its own at the moment.) Ah, well. What do I know? The fact I drive so very little doesn't mean I'm not affected by the price of gas. Gas over gas.
Later evening. A good day. We'll repeat, they've been rare lately. A brief period in the very late afternoon, early evening, of a ocular migraine coming on, one that aborted rather quickly. The diet? The uneven way I eat during the day? I've been warned about both. Still, again, an up day, thoughts of actually doing things I've only been thinking about doing, let's hope there's more to come.