Anything About It
Monday. To bed early (good), up just after seven without having set the alarm (also good), the morning bright and on its way to a scorcher. Well, I left the windows and the balcony door open last night, so the apartment was relatively cool when I awoke, so no complaints, no bother. I've experienced real weather in my callow youth, real enough to appreciate living here in the Bay Area.
I totally forgot I was planing to drive on and have the car serviced on the way home from breakfast, getting the Protime blood test done at the hospital lab next door, so we'll do it now in the mid-morning. Doesn't matter how long it takes them with the car, there are plenty of options and errands to run for a young man with a bus ticket and a camera. Hup!
Tomorrow they're delivering those two chairs I ordered, so today we'll move the busted old chairs around and think about having them picked up or dropped off or whatever it is people do with old busted chairs in Oakland. We will. But tomorrow.
They're due to call today to give me a two hour window for delivery, which means I need to answer my phone when an unknown number is displayed. I've already had one from a Democratic Senate Election Committee of some kind and expect there will be others. I get two or three calls from “unknown” numbers now a day, most of them (I suspect) because I've given small donations to some of the Senate and Congressional candidates I like, a downside being these calls as they evidently share their information. But we'll persevere. We will. Two chairs arriving tomorrow, neither of which (one hopes) are prone to broken parts or sagging sides. I'm ready if they are.
Later. As I set out driving to the Honda dealer, the delivery people called with a recorded message: they will arrive between noon and two tomorrow afternoon and they will call half an hour before they arrive. I'd have driven off the road in anticipation if I hadn't already pulled over to the curb to take the call. (Just kidding. Nice to get the call and get the thing completed.)
Dropped off the car, walked up the way to have the blood drawn for the Protime test, back then to a bus stop on Broadway to wait under the morning sun for the 51A to take me downtown. Warm out there in the direct morning sun. The bus finally arrived, over to the transit office to get a bus pass for the month (they give you a three day grace period on the old one), on then again to sit in the City Center for maybe twenty minutes over a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese before walking up Broadway, realizing I had time to kill before the car would be ready at one, so I skipped a passing bus and went into the hat shop.
OK, I've been thinking about another hat, but I've been putting it off now for some time. Found one of the kind I was looking for, not too expensive, bought the hat and walked on to catch a bus back to the hospital. Good. We're cooking (under a topper).
Two cans of V-8 juice sitting outside on the patio of a small place across from the hospital and catty-corner to the Honda repair shop, dawdling as best I'm able to dawdle (in a new almost, but not quite, Jack the Lad hat) before walking and then waiting at the repair shop for the car to be done. Took some time, it did, but now I'm home on a hot afternoon with the fan blowing my way by the computer.
So the day has turned out swell?
Might say it's swell on the way to sweltering, but I've not fallen quite that far. Yet. We'll wait on the blood results, see if I'm on track again or if the fact (in checking under the bandage) it bled a bit means we have to make further adjustments. Every day something new, something borrowed, something blue (or red, actually).
Later still. The Yahoo weather site says it's 100 degrees out there at the moment, humidity 18% (thank goodness!), so we'll not be out running around. Some time on the guitar, some more time as the afternoon winds itself up (in 100 degree weather). Feel OK. The sinus-upper palate thing has been the bug-a-boo all day, nothing much else to blame today. Which is good, as in the sinus-palate seems to be a botched operation and not something that comes with age and lasts forever.
What's the difference? This sinus-palate thing has been going on now for ten years, what makes me think it won't last another ten or until the end? Well, hope springs eternal. Maybe it will eventually settle down and the horizon will seem a little brighter. Doesn't stop me from doing most things except, well, the laundry, putting it off until the last minute. Pretty easy going downside for a bachelor, you'd think, if you're looking for a brighter side.
Evening. It's now cooler outside than it is in here, so the balcony door is wide open and the bedroom window is wide open and hopefully there will be a breeze wafting through. It's not all that bad, but it is a little warmer than I'm used to, than we're used to. Doodle-dee-do.
Nothing really on television, what little television I have access to through a pair of rabbit ears. I could explore the web in more detail, but I'm not sure I'm really all that interested. Maybe get in the habit of getting to bed really early so I awake before six without an alarm. I'm thinking that might be for the better. Nothing on at six I wanted to watch, none of the CSI variants that run every night are anything I watch anymore, they're like watching the same program repeat over and over, so we'll have to come up with something else (to view or listen to as I practice the guitar).
I've stacked a couple of the chairs and tried to put them where they won't be underfoot. The chairs coming tomorrow will force me to figure something out. Soon. No reason to fight it, this was the idea in the first place. Well, the idea that kicked it all off, my rationale may change as we get into it. Rationalizations are really nice in that when circumstances change and using it no longer makes sense, it's easily replaced by another more facile that better boosts old ego: huppity, hup, hup, hup!
Time to go back in your cage. That really didn't make any sense.
Too warm for the cage, too early for bed, too dumb to do anything about it.