Thursday. Off the tablet by nine, lights out by ten, awakening but twice during the night and up at six-thirty on what turns out to be an overcast, cloudy, rain looking morning. Well, “rain looking”. Nobody's made any money betting on rain here in Oakland in a very long time.
Still, a decent attitude as I was walking to breakfast, the plain waffle with sliced bananas and strawberries along with coffee and a mixed fruit cup to start the day, back after documenting the four cent fall in the price of gas. Regular. I don't ask why I do this anymore, I just do it without particularly thinking. Doesn't take much time, many another odd habit could more profitably go before this one.
Something about the nasty oil companies and their oligopolistic control of prices.
It's the kind of thing you'd be doing if you'd continued back when and gotten your degree in economics instead of political science.
Later. The backpack came during the noon hour, but - and I should have known better - although it easily holds the two cameras, it's too big and too heavy. I was dumb. So I checked a back closet to be sure I didn't already have a backpack stowed away I'd forgotten about and found one that held the two cameras comfortably at about half the size, not really much larger than the backpack I've been using to hold the one long lens camera. Dumb. I. Here in Oakland.
Otherwise, the sun has come out, the temperature is good and so, naturally, I spent the early afternoon lying on the bed watching this and that on the tablet, thinking I was hungry and I'd really like to go to the 7-11 look-alike for ice cream. If we're going to be dumb in ordering camera backpacks, we're going to be dumb in every other which way. It seems.
Later still. A walk to the look-alike for a pint of ice cream and a two liter bottle of diet Coke. I hadn't thought to buy the Coke, but it was (finally) in stock and, although I'd only made a dent so far in the two one liter bottles I had still sitting in the refrigerator, I figured what the hell. And I'd brought a bag big enough to carry it home.
That seems like an awful lot of explanation for what's essentially a trivial concern.
I was thinking that myself.
Home, ate the ice cream. I'd been feeling a little light headed when walking to and from the look-alike and figured the ice cream would give us a jolt, not that I needed an excuse to chow down. I then decided to lie down, as I was indeed feeling both light headed and beginning to experience some of the precursors to an ocular migraine. Where in the hell was this coming from?
Ice cream has proven a suspect in the past.
That occurred to me as well, but later. Not sure these symptoms would be brought on so soon after consuming a pint, but you never know. This led to a two hour nap. Out like a light to awaken around seven-thirty in the evening, wondering what had happened (and so the thoughts about the evils of ice cream and similar silly concerns).
Evening. Checked out Charlie Rose, watched some of it before I bailed. A discussion of yesterday's Republican debate. They too had no idea of what any of it might mean in the scheme of things. I'd seen the Inspector Lewis and so watched some bits and pieces of it before giving up, took a look at the beginning of Vera at nine-thirty, but then said to hell with it and went to bed. Tired. Even with the nap.