To Do With It
Wednesday. Although I got to bed last night at an early hour, I slept in an hour later, getting up at seven and off to breakfast and the papers not much after.
Sitting at the café, realizing I had the guitar lesson at ten and that I needed to leave not later than nine-thirty from the apartment to drive over to the instructor's house to find a parking spot, I thought about my options: when should I leave for the apartment so I could pick up the guitar and get to the lesson; how long would that take, how about traffic...?! You see where my never arrive late neurosis springs from. How it manifests its little self even before a day has begun. (hup, hup)
Still, a good lesson, a parking space finally found somewhat farther away than I might like, but not really a problem after circling the block two or three times. (hup, hup) I clearly showed progress in the playing, clearly showed I needed more work in some areas, got home feeling reasonably good about the way things had gone.
A number of of the old APL people have responded they're coming to PCB late this afternoon at six for a get together, maybe have dinner with those who are up for it after, much as we've done so many times before in our past.
Otherwise the day is overcast and they're saying it will reach into the low sixties. I'm assuming it won't rain, although the sky is quite grey in a non-rain threatening way. You never know though, but right now I'm sure I'll get in a walk later after the UPS truck arrives.
What in the hell have you bought this time?
Nothing exotic, nothing in any way necessary to the functioning of the universe, so if we're here when it arrives, then good; otherwise we'll babble on about catching it tomorrow.
Later. Let's see, missed UPS, we'll put off thinking about that until tomorrow, headed on to PCB to meet with what turned out to be nine ex-APL'ers for beverages and then dinner after at an old familiar haunt and, in a good mood, got home before ten. A successful evening, although I seem to have skated along the edge of another one of these ocular migraines, that began building in earnest as I was driving home and lasting for about another hour. A very dry somewhat foul tasting mouth on and off during the day (after breakfast) was the now familiar precursor. I have no idea what that's about, although it seems to come on after a meal. And I ate like a pig yesterday: breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Three real meals?
I know, the mind boggles. Must be something in the water, some dreadful spill they've been keeping from us, something that would get them un-elected from office and banished to L.A. if we ever found out. A taste of the real world where actual stuff happens. Most of us want nothing to do with it.