Sunday. Strange day, yesterday, with the ocular excursion and then later at night with the not being able to get to sleep. Lights out by ten, but real sleep not coming until around midnight and then awakening this morning at seven-thirty, a good hour and more later than is the habit. Which is good, given the trouble dropping off last night, but, what? Gives a kind of scratch your head start to the morning.
Sunday and so driving to breakfast, a larger breakfast than usual (a pound under one fifty-five this morning, the weight holding steady now for the last number of months) without thinking how that might affect the afternoon and photographing the Rockridge Out & About. Unfortunately nothing unusual in this: forgetting how a this may later affect a that, here in this ever stranger land that harbors ocular migraines in its niches and its cracks.
But we're babbling, it's taken longer to edit yesterday's entry than it should and we're running late. Time to get ready for Rockridge, the little voices asking me why we're going out to photograph Rockridge, wouldn't it be better to stay here inside, these whispering little voices of doubt.
Later. And so we decided to lie down, no need to arrive early, and then decided we could remain lying down a little longer, miss another bus, take the next bus. And then the next. And then we blew it off. Not sure why, but maybe we're in the middle of a change around here, just not sure what. Either that or the weather's too hot.
It is quite warm, a walk to the lake to find a group of dancers practicing in front of a line of drummers and so photographs. A walk then to the 7-11 look-alike for an ice cream sandwich, a walk back by the corner café across from the apartment house construction site to find it packed with people huddled over their laptops. It's always filled with people, younger people, huddled over laptops. Nice place, but meant for a different demographic.
Home now to process the earlier pictures, snapshots really, although one or two turned out. We remain unfocused in much of our every day shooting, not something you want to admit to others or to yourself. I'm not sure skipping the street fair today is a part of that, something else happening there, but it might.
Later still. Cooler, now. Five-thirty. No weird mouth taste, no ocular symptoms, a clear headed day except for my refusal to go to the Rockridge street fair and shoot pictures. Silly me, but have over these last years said the occasional hard wired no - to others, to ourself - for reasons I don't really comprehend. Well, we can run ourselves into a ditch pretty quickly with this kind of thinking.
Evening. Nothing on television, some things I was willing to watch for a very short while on the tablet (we do skip back and forth between a long list of television programs and movies we've got in play, does everyone do it this way?) before giving up. Hup.