Who's Hopeless
Another day of what I consider no dizziness. If I can get through tomorrow it will make a week. I feel funky, the head is still - and I've never had the words to exactly describe this - aching, but not severely, nothing like a headache or a hangover and certainly nothing like a migraine, I've never to my knowledge had a migraine, which means I haven't, but funky, and funky is OK. Funky is clear headed. Tired is just tired, muscle tired, but for good reason.
So what are you saying?
Hey, man, it's spring, I've just saved a gadzillion dollars by not having to buy a new scanner (I will, but not today and probably not tomorrow) and, with the head clear, I'm free and maybe have the gumption and clarity to actually do these damned things that keep popping into my noggin. Which is good. I've been putting things off.
Like what?
Well, the car, of course, except, as well all know, the car is hopeless, but driving up to visit my mother and sister in Portland, certainly, photograph an event or two out in the countryside over a long weekend, leave the apartment, get on a bus, get up in the morning, drink in private, drink in public, tie my shoes.
You're the one who's hopeless.
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