Thursday. To bed, to sleep, to awaken just before six again to listen to Democracy Now as we got ready to walk to breakfast on an overcast, but not overly cold morning in a good mood and clear enough head. Be nice if it holds. Be nice if I'm right about the “clear enough” head.
One lone last pandorea flower still holding out in front of the morning café, the construction company that built the Avévista apartments refinishing the street in front of one of its entrances as I was returning from breakfast. OK. Another start to a day, nothing planned other than maybe finishing more Latham Square sections and thinking about and possibly putting things in order around here. But we repeat ourself, this thinking of doing “around here.” Oh, dear.
Later. A walk to the café by the fitness center for an ice cream sandwich and coffee, a walk back along the lake to take one or two pictures of the construction progress. Still some way to go. The section of street they were refinishing near my apartment was finished, though, by the time I returned at noon.
And then. And then I cleaned out the hallway closet, dumped many cardboard boxes and packing materials I'd been saving for reasons that no longer make sense. For a good two hours. Quite a bit of progress. I'm tired and more than a little surprised. We may do more tomorrow. I didn't die, after all, and I rather like the result. Meanwhile, a nap.
Evening. Finished watching a movie on Netflix. More often than not it takes me some time to finish a movie, even an interesting one, watching them ten minutes at a time, switching between one and another from the long list of those I have open at any given time. Still not sure if that's the norm or something to do with age.
Let's let go of the “age” thing.
Remembered the Warriors were playing and so dialed into the AM station carrying the game. They were ahead in the second quarter, good, but not that far ahead. Dialed in now and again later when I remembered to hear the last few minutes when they were still winning and then won. Good for them. Another game Saturday, another roll of the dice. I'm starting to see this business of coaching is a more complicated juggling act than I once thought.
Skipped the Inspector Lynley at eight, watching the first part of Charlie Rose where they were talking about Clinton's ongoing email adventure and then went to bed. Not a bad day, got the closet cleaned and such. We might get even more into the “and such” with luck.