And I Shall Survive
Tuesday. To bed again at a decent hour, up with the alarm, but dragging my heels. Not enough to cause much of a delay, I still arrived in time to read the papers over breakfast without hurry, but starting a little slower on this foggy morning, the weather people saying it will last but another couple of hours. Good luck with that from the look of it out there at the moment.
A Protime (blood test) later along with another not related test the doctor wanted at my annual physical last week. I'd asked about Hepatitis B or C or whatever they've been talking about lately and he did say they were recommending the test for baby boomers and he, somewhat hesitantly I thought, wrote out a script. Do I think I may have B or C whatever? Do I have a clue as to what it is? No, but I did have blood transfusions during the period in question, one of the transmission methods back then, so I might as well have the test while there's still a Medicare to help pick it up.
Later. I did lie down to charge the batteries briefly, but, what the heck, up and out the door to catch a bus and then walk along Broadway to the hospital lab to get the blood test(s) - hup! - a bus then back to Grand, a cup of coffee and a scone at the café next to the Christ The Light church before walking home. Stopping (of course) for a pint of ice cream and the small bottle of Jack Daniels. We need to recharge our batteries after another of these never ending blood tests was the thought. Rationalization enough, no need to be more creative, just pop into the store and out. Hup!
Rationalizing the ice cream or the whiskey?
Both. Of course.
It's now mid-afternoon. The fog lifted around noon and it's sunny out there now. I'm sitting here looking at the guitar and listening to the news. The guitar is looking back. I've tuned it and run through some chords, played the exercises I'm practicing and thinking they're not all that tough. Which is OK as long as I don't use it to slough off more practice. Dangerous thinking - it's not all that tough, I've got it down - thinking that leads to sloth. He said. Again. And again.
Evening. Watched the Italian police procedural at six. I guess they've run out of Tuesday night Maigret's. I'm a little embarrassed I watched the damned thing, reading the subtitles right along and not playing along on the guitar, although I did get some practice in. I'm a little flat this day, probably why I get into the rah! rah! stuff. Sell the self on the program. No big deal, it goes up and down, mostly up, but we'll survive and live to play again.
For a state that isn't at all in play at the national presidential election level I've received pound after pound of mail urging me to vote for or against this or that proposition, vote for or against this or that (school director, city council, city attorney) candidate and, although I'm clear on what I prefer with the propositions and on some of the elected offices, I'm a great deal less clear on others. I don't follow candidates for the school board or city attorney, for example. But I'm mailing my ballot in tomorrow, so I still have much that needs to be done.
How's any of this work out for the guitar?
The guitar and I shall survive.