Monday. I've been told I don't run enough photographs of Emmy and I suspect that's true. The few I take are done off the cuff, generally as an afterthought (Ms. Emmy does not consider herself an afterthought) and now that I'm retired perhaps it's time to rethink my attitude. Nah. Too much good sense in the proposition. Besides, I believe I've read something about “herding cats” and “discretion is the better part of valor”. Excellent rationalizations when needed, I recommend them to everyone.
The weather, by the way, is close to perfect. I had some routine blood tests at the hospital this morning, had breakfast at the usual café, returned here to the apartment to start another week doing, well, what? Some thoughts of spending more time writing individual journal entries, polishing them further, rewriting them when I see they're drifting off into mushy and illogical territory, but I have a suspicion that's not really what I'm after now that I've retired. My posting every day may be a symptom I've entered into a state of denial, an overheated run up to my ten year anniversary next month, an anniversary when I decide if I'm going to continue with this, um, sophomoric behavior. (I've always found sophomoric behavior, particularly when mixed with a little sake, to be great fun.)