Maybe getting up at eight, going to bed at midnight isn't a good idea. The afternoons and the evening go well after a cranky aching muscle morning, but sometimes I have a certain speedy can't quite sit down and concentrate evening that I'd just as soon avoid. Any chance of changing that by getting up (really) early and getting to bed between nine and ten? Probably not. And isn't that what you hear about old folks? Their problems with sleeping? Wake up at four when you'd rather wake up at eight?

Whatever.

They're saying an excellent day, highs in the mid sixties and seventies, sitting here at the computer just before one, the sun bright outside the door on the balcony floor. Yesterday morning progressed not unlike this morning and I hopped a bus about now that ended up in Berkeley at Telegraph and University, a walk about Telegraph (which I find more and more depressing in its mix of young students and old grifters, a carbon copy of the street I knew forty years ago when I first arrived), a chicken Caesar salad with an excellent slice of wheat bread at a corner reasonably priced restaurant, more walking, browse the photography and art books at Moe's, a bus back to Oakland, a walk back home. Many miles, aching back muscles, life in the fast lane.

Still, I was jumpy last night. Tried watching a crummy old 1950's British science fiction movie (crummy, but no complaints and I'm happy to own it), cooked spaghetti for dinner, to bed by midnight, no sake. I know you won't believe it, but I often go to bed without sake.