Thursday. I realized last night that Spiral, the French series I'd missed the last chapter of the first time they'd run the series, would be running that last chapter I'd missed on this second go around this evening. I'd thought briefly that last week's was the missing chapter, one of the missing chapters (it didn't really come to a logical conclusion) but then realized I'd seen it as I'd remembered some of the scenes, so this evening indeed was that first of whatever number of chapters I'd missed. For sure. Really.
So, some spaghetti for dinner, the Don Matteo thing I skip was on at six, so watch the last half of the Democracy Now news cast that ended at six thirty instead, the French series coming at seven. Except I was feeling, well, punk. Symptoms similar to early symptoms I've experienced - not the same, but similar - so I figured I'd lie down for a bit and get up to watch it at seven.
Went right to sleep, awoke after eight, got up still feeling not all that great but checked the television and saw that the program that was playing, another foreign language police procedural, had obviously started at seven in place of the French series I was after, so I said the hell with it and went right back to bed. Slept until six. Six-thirty to six, some eleven or so hours. Felt fine when I awoke, got up and did my usual breakfast routine under an overcast sky.
So who knows? Whatever it was last night wasn't brought on by anything I'd eaten, I hadn't had anything to eat all day that I haven't eaten many times before without issue: no alcohol, MSG, or anything else I've decided must go from the diet. That spaghetti just before it started, but I've eaten exactly that sauce many times, no MSG, no grated cheese topping.
Still, what the hell, feel fine, up for the day, up for whatever comes now that the article is done and there's no music lesson tomorrow or the week following (I did get in some practice, yesterday, more for pleasure than toil). A head's up, though, last night on things to follow? Might be. Nothing about it that seemed to spell immanent doom, although you're never quite sure what doom might actually look like when you're in the middle of it. We'll blow it off to experience and think about it again if and when it returns. Not today, please, we need a breather.
Later. Well, phooey. I headed out just to head out the door, crossed the street to the lake, took a look at the lake and then crossed back across the street and returned to the apartment. I suspect we are in a funk here, and it may be a funk that requires more than just time or a tweak or two to get it up and running again.
The pleasures of the past - the books, the music, the movies - no longer have the kick they once had and they need to be replaced with something else. Maybe I need to do some serious sit down and think about it searching. I haven't made any attempts to meet people now that I'm retired. Not sure how that would work. A group that sits around the tables at a café trading stories? Of other photographers? Others similarly afflicted? Who knows? In the past we'd do it over alcohol, but I can't drink alcohol anymore and I find coffee no substitute. I have them cut my coffee with half water in the mornings as it is.
So we'll see. Maybe just go right out there and see where I end up. Hup!
Later still. A bit of sun now that I'm back and it's into the afternoon. A walk earlier to the usual place for lunch, a walk back with the sky thoroughly overcast, not much wind. Still cold for these bones, although I was dressed for it. The attitude remains the same, I'd thought to just go downtown and see how I reacted, but bailed about a minute before the bus arrived and headed for lunch instead.
Then a nap. A nap. After all that sleep, last night. Something like a two hour nap from which I awoke in the middle with an ocular whatever going on. Classic distorting reality symptoms that took me time to figure out, so I lay back down and went back to sleep. Two hours. What had I had for lunch? That grilled Swiss cheese sandwich? It picked something up off the grill? Doesn't sound right, but I guess I'm off grilled (Swiss, cheddar, Jack, whatever) cheese sandwiches for a while.
Evening. OK, much better. Life goes on. Nothing on television, perhaps there's never really anything worth watching on television and what I say I'm willing to watch but a sign of slipping into the Great Snooze. Hadn't thought of that. Slipping into the Great Snooze. I'd probably worry about it more if I didn't have so much company. I do like company, even though you wouldn't think it from my current existence.
I went to bed early, couldn't sleep (perhaps after all the sleep I'd gotten last night and with today's naps), remembered Elementary was playing at ten, got up and watched. Not long into it I started getting hints I'd seen it before, realized I had by the time it was half over, still didn't remember who'd done it until the end. Consistent, at least, of only consistently dumb numb.