Saturday. To bed early, turn out the lights and sleep through until just after six, up and out the door driving to breakfast, figuring it wouldn't cost very much to put a few minutes on a parking meter to avoid a walk. And that's the way it worked out, the day otherwise clear, the sun bright, the cold air demanding a sweater. The cold air had no trouble getting me into that sweater.
An avocado and cheese omelet for breakfast, playing a bit with fire. I didn't quite finish, too large a serving, but I've blamed avocado and cheese omelets in the past for bringing on ocular incidents. We get in a rut with our waffle and sliced fruit routine and we need to (very occasionally during weak moments) take chances make changes in the diet.
Later. A walk over to the Lakeshore ATM thinking yes, I need to do this, for both the money tomorrow and the morning walk. Not that my morning walks could be considered “exercise”, you understand. Not at my pace. Still, it's something I think about, rationalizing aside.
Passed by a group of dancers performing at the white columned pergola, a group I haven't seen in the past. They were good. Good coordination, moving together as one, my reaction electric. I know nothing of dancing, but I'm assuming “electric” is a positive sign.
On to the ATM and then right back, not stopping, a snapshot as I passed by the farmers market, another photograph of the band playing at their usual place. Sat for a while on an available bench before returning to the apartment, the vision a bit jittery throughout the walk. Nothing I relate to the ocular stuff, but something I've experienced too many times in the past. Puts you just a little off, makes the walking less than fun. Disappeared soon after getting home. The sinus-upper palate participating, if not its source.
Don't let no surgeons get near your nose?
Don't let no surgeons anywhere near your nose.
Later still. Some football, some guitar (how did that happen?), more football and now it's coming up on evening and we've done little or nothing since we returned from the ATM. Sounds about right on a weekend.
Or a weekday.
Evening. Ah, right. The debate. Dialed in five minutes after it had started on the local CBS television channel, watched for about an hour before changing to radio and listening to the rest of it in bed.
All three at least superficially made sense, some more sense (at least to me) than others. Clinton is the current, owned by Wall Street, Democratic Party and Sanders is the Democratic Party I remember from the forties, fifties and sixties, when school was affordable and people made a decent living. Even people who didn't make a decent living made a decent living if you haze your memory enough and don't get too picky.
All of which means?
We live in a complicated world that doesn't always go the way we (in our infinite wisdom) would like, and we should probably be thankful, very thankful, no one has blown it up yet.