Geese This Week
Wednesday. Up a couple of times last night in order to turn over and find a more comfortable spot, similar to nights when I wasn't recovering from a stomach operation, so no particular significance I'd guess in the fact. One of the pain pills as I went to bed well before ten, up this time with the alarm, slowly but purposefully, off to breakfast feeling one must say well. Or fine. Or good. I read the papers over a breakfast I was unable to finish and that was that. No complaints. No, really. We're just babbling here and have no idea what we're talking about.
Back home with a haircut scheduled at ten. We'll go by the ATM, walk on to the appointment in the City Center, pick up three prescription refills after that and the day's tasks will be done. I did get in a set of good sessions on the guitar yesterday and now look forward to more today. The chords sound better, the speed in moving between them up. Still rough, but they sound as if someone were playing a guitar for a change. Does wonders in your attitude toward practice.
Still scattered. The writing is messier and more stupid. More so than I'd like. I suspect I've been using photographs I've posted before. I suspect. No reason for that. The photograph up top needs to be a portrait that was shot full frame without cropping to properly fit and there are only so many that come out of any given session so it's easy to forget, easy to make errors.
Otherwise: the bills are being paid, the budget being managed, new clothes ordered and received to fit this smaller me. One hundred and fifty-three pounds this morning. Unknown territory. We're not pushing it, we'll not push for more, not below one-fifty anyway. I mentioned no longer owning a suit that fits. As I said, new territory.
You go on and on.
Later. A bus to the ATM on Broadway taking pictures of the construction site across from the stop, more rebar and what I'm assuming are plywood forms for the concrete walls. A walk then to the haircut appointment in the City Center, arriving at ten. I'm big on not arriving late, not too soon, never late, so good.
A decent haircut, lots less hair, on then to pick up the prescriptions (no line? really? no one waiting in line?) with plenty of time remaining to catch the bus, getting off at the 7-11 look-alike for diet Coke, bean dip and Doritos. They say avoid carbonated beverages, both diet and not, as sugar and carbonation are two potential problems without a gall bladder. We'll know soon enough. The bean dip and chips we'll save for later for lunch or dinner. Both are, of course, on the to be avoided list.
Why all these foods from to be avoided list?
I want to know if I'm one of the people who are due to have problems. That list I mentioned yesterday, all the foods and food like substances that can or may cause grief? I'm not sure everything I still call food isn't on it.
So you're worried.
So I'm curious. We'll worry later if appropriate.
Later still. A walk over to the construction site to see the first wood form in place for the cement supporting walls. They'd placed temporary paper signs on both sides of Grand saying no parking tomorrow, so they've got something needing parking space coming.
On then along the lake to sit for a short time on an empty bench in the sun - a bit warm - to return and take another pain pill. They may put it on my tombstone: he took his pills. Funny thing, the ways of this existence.
Evening. Feel pretty good, maybe the second pain pill I popped a couple of hours ago has kicked in, maybe time alone will make the difference. Is it really Wednesday, a full week tomorrow since the operation? Just like that? A week gone by?
Nothing on television I can watch, some time in on the guitar, but not yet enough. Looking forward to a better night and a better day tomorrow, from a little slow to over the hill and back into my normal daily rut routine. The trip to Seattle coming up, something to look forward to. Maybe consciously go out to take a decent picture, something that doesn't involve Caterpillar tractors or geese this week.