May Have Noticed
Saturday. The sun is out. I've gassed the car paying something like thirty cents a gallon less than I paid the last time I added gas. As some may know I don't drive all that much and I can't remember the last time I filled the tank. Even I am tired of hearing about this obnoxious lack of miles and the dollars it saves at the pump so we'll let it sit.
I have two friends who suggest my low to no mileage history indicates a lack of adventure of the spirit, a defect of character that keeps me inside the apartment peeping out at the world through the Internet. I like to think more in terms I happen to have a short commute. I see no reason to focus on the downside cooped up as I am here in my apartment.
The bitching and moaning about the head will continue, but only because I still retain hope one of these doctors I've been seeing will make it stop. Either that or put me on disability for a while, experiment to see if this stressful existence I've been living is telling me to stop. The neurologist, I suspect, is going to say, “Well, these things happen. Let me know if it gets worse.”
A thought on the photograph. I am accused of running pictures of people (almost always women) who look as if they're feeling down. No smiles. I don't agree with “down”. They're not in their public for the camera face, true, but they're not down. Introspective (yes), contemplative (yes), in their own private not aware of the world space (yes), but none of these are “down”. Except sometimes. The lady above (you may have noticed) is smiling. Right? Right?