Time Of War
Wednesday. Yesterday marked the end of the fourth month since the operation and, for the first time, starting with last weekend, I've begun to feel like a human being. I realize these last four months have been something of a fog, a hunkering down, the world outside a strange jumbled place. This is the first week I've felt like poking my head up out of my hole, join the rest of the prairie dogs silhouetted against the horizon. This is good. This also marks another day walking to work. The muscles are a little stiff, but not too bad, no reason to be foolish about this, so I'm feeling pretty good for an old fart who's just turned sixty.
The two lamps I ordered last week arrived yesterday and they're shining at the other end of the living room. They're just over six feet tall and direct their light straight up at the ceiling. Their stainless steel poles are too thick to my eye for good proportionality, but they weren't all that expensive and the rheostat controlled light is nice. My landlord commented "you seem to finally be moving in". After a year, why not?
Emmy is still hiding under the bed, although I noticed she came out last night to look over the lamps. I think I'll get one of those carpet covered cat shelves you can put at the base of a window so she can climb up and feel safe looking out over her living room and peer down at the street. She too has been living inside her head under my bed and it's time for her to come out and take ownership of her apartment. Meow. I hope she does it in less than four months, but, you know, these things take their time.
You buy a lot of stuff over the web. Are you turning into a hermit? Can't even get it up to go shopping?
Well, they're building a Foot Locker on the way in to the office. I'm thinking of buying some Nike's from an actual sales person there when it's finished. Hard to tell your size without trying them on, you understand, particularly when you'd rather eat glass than return them for a refund.
Thursday. We met MRP after work for a couple of beers at PCB. He was laid off a year ago now and he's passing through town after spending a few months in London and the last two months in Hawaii. He has two interviews in Los Angeles next week, then he'll pass through San Francisco again for a night with us on the town, then back to Hawaii where he says he's able to live comfortably for very little money. He says he's thinking of buying a lot near the beach on the big island, evidently they're not all that expensive, and claims he's not worried about finding a job. He's also bought another car, since his Mercedes is in storage, a Subaru Forester. "Skip the Element, buy the Forester." Life is tough, apparently, in time of war.