To Bed At Eight
Wednesday. Up at seven, tired, to breakfast and back by nine to lie down for forty-five minutes before heading to my guitar lesson. It went better than the last, I'm encouraged and would like to do even more this week. Maybe I will.
Feeling tired coming back from the lesson, another hour lying down listening to the radio, then off to Palo Alto for the appointment with the ocular neurologist, which lasted two full hours, the actual neurologist herself, arriving for the last twenty or thirty minutes after being quizzed by one assistant and then examined by a young doctor in residence. The doctor, when she arrived, was sharp.
So. We'll go get another MRI, this one focusing on nerves/muscles that move the eye to the left and to the right and we'll do them right away. Why right away? Well, one of the things that causes this to happen is prostate cancer attacking this one particular area. OK, got my attention.
So back to the apartment then after four, a decision to have sushi and sake again this evening down at the bottom of the hill, the hell with the price. Comfort sake, was my thought. And what the hell. A little comfort sake and another nap. Maybe a movie if one worth watching has arrived from Netflix. A comfort movie, perhaps.
Evening. The usual spicy mussels, calamari legs (sounds better than grilled squid tentacles), California rolls and sake, a large flask of sake followed by a small flask poured for me on the house, all finished with two servings (they really are small) of green tea frozen cheese cake. I do like the cheese cake. To bed at eight.