Given A Choice
Saturday. The alarm at six. Turn off the alarm, go back to bed, think about it for a bit rather than dozing off back to sleep. OK. Up and out the door at six thirty, the local Oakland Tribune holding consistent in that it doesn't arrive on time on the weekends; to breakfast then with the one newspaper, back now in front of the computer feeling, well, better than yesterday, certainly, but still kind of, well, waiting on the motor to start.
I didn't check the temperature yesterday, but it was really warm throughout the day and well into the evening, moving the fan from the living room to the bedroom finally to cool off, the windows open, the sliding door to the balcony open. A party of some kind going on in a apartment nearby, their windows obviously open or the group of them sitting out on a balcony talking. Well, one guy talking, telling his life's story at the age of what I'm guessing is about thirty.
Telling his life story clearly and loudly enough to be a problem. Close the window and it was better, manageable, but with the window closed it was too warm. So we got to sleep around midnight, is my guess, six hours sleep last night less the couple of times I awoke to turn over and find a more comfortable position. No foot cramps at least. Still, things are indeed much better than they were yesterday, yesterday a combination of crap. When I see these doctors again I'm going to ask they drop all these allergy medications, see if that doesn't help.
I was experiencing allergy symptoms, yes, but they weren't nearly as unsettling as these seem to have become, some of the more interesting starting about the time the medications began. The odd visual distortions, not debilitating, but of concern. The neurologist who said he had something that might work for the sinus upper palate problem. Lets try whatever that is. Soon. I see most all of them within the next couple of weeks.
The Rockridge Out and About Street Festival tomorrow, I'm looking forward to photographing it. Nothing I'm aware of today, but I'll make one last final check. The sky is clear, a warm day ahead. I hope not as warm as it was yesterday, but they were saying it was going to hold through the weekend. It's often quite warm in the fall here in the Bay Area, they tell jokes about it. The cool, almost cold summers, the overly warm springs and falls. Something about which I have no complaints, have never had any complaints. Bring it on. Sometimes you get a bit of summer weather in the middle of winter. A plus. Believe me, a plus.
I've done no thinking lately of where I might want to go now that I've retired. Here? There? I'd have to get off my duff and search a new place out. Seems unlikely for the moment. Another go through the apartment to identify things that can be thrown out. Two printers (out of three) sitting on the printer caddy. Why have I not added them to the list? So obvious and yet so hidden. They can go. There are two printers I use, two others, older printers, that can go. This is good. We continue to make progress.
A CD “shelf” arrived yesterday, matching one I already have. About four and a half feet long, made out of a nice substantial stained wood. The overflow errant CD's now have a place of their own. Another bit of straightening up. I do continue this get the living space in shape, have continued with it to good effect. I'll get to that storage locker one of these days. I can feel it. New territory opening up. New territory is good. We're moving our butt. To where, I don't know, but I suspect it's necessary to stay of top of this to keep the head in gear if not clear.
Why any concern about where you're living? If you're comfortable here, then stay, move when something comes up.
I'm not sure. It seems to just come out here, not something I otherwise think all that much about. Maybe that's true for everything. This is my way of examining it. Otherwise it's just background noise, my failing is in not taking some of it more seriously. By writing here it's out in the open. Is it idiocy or is it something else? Most things in this life that don't involve shelter, food and a reasonable level of contentment with your Art and Life don't really count. Although I'll need to think about that. Shelter and food, no brainers. A reasonable level of contentment with your Art and Life? Fuzzy enough. Wide and loose enough to cover anything you might like.
(The Folsom Street Fair today in San Francisco. We can skip the Folsom Street Fair, I think. I can only take so much skin and leather under a hot afternoon sun.)
Later. Coming back from the downtown with a prescription renewal in hand was interesting. Sipping a mixed fruit thing sitting at a table out in front of Jamba Juice at the City Center, the fellow making repairs to the tiled flooring nearby and the people walking back and forth taking on an odd, distant, not disturbing, but strange appearance. A strange reality, might be a better description, but I suspect there's really no way to describe it in a way that quite conveys the sensation I'm trying to describe.
Hunter Thompson may have come closest in his Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, describing his character's arrival at the hotel bar to find the patrons were lizards and reptiles sitting in pools of blood. There's a certain fear factor in walking in on a room full of lizards and reptiles sitting in pools of blood, none of which seemed present with the reality distortions I was experiencing sitting there in the City Center, but otherwise not a bad way to describe it. Waiting on a bus, similarly interesting.
Arriving home and trying to find the right key to fit into the front door lock, almost impossible. The key to my front door lock. Took a few minutes. They were keys, I was pretty sure, but I didn't recognize them in the form they were taking as mine. Finally into the apartment: unload the camera and iPhone (best to track that down, come to think of it), turn off the computer (seemed right at the time) and then to the bedroom to turn on the fan, get undressed and turn in with the radio playing in the background. Why the radio I don't know. A reality check. Did it make sense?
Three hours later and things are again good. Too warm out there today, as it was yesterday, but the head back together, feeling as if I've just gotten up (which I have, come to think of it). At three in the afternoon. I obviously didn't get enough sleep last night if I was able to nap for three hours.
So I think I'll write down everything I either eat or drink over the next two weeks to bring along with me to the neurologist next month. See if I'm missing something important. He stresses eating regularly throughout the day, three balanced meals, and I tend to eat most of my calories at breakfast. But thoughts such as these don't really go anywhere. Write it down. What, when, how much. I've been eating more cereal lately because it's easy and still tastes reasonably good. Probably should check the carbohydrate content. They say keep the carbohydrate consumption low in any given meal. Still, no way to tell just guessing. Write it down.
Mr. S mentioned he had these ocular migraines while at the old office for a couple of years, finally stopping some years back. Must have been interesting to have one at the office. I ran into the apartment manager as I was fumbling with my keys at the front door and we talked going up on the elevator, he seemingly unaware of anything different in my speech or demeanor, not that he'd say anything, of course. This kind of excitement we can easily skip, I would think, here in Oakland. Given a choice. Just sayin’. You know.