In The Morning
Sunday. To bed after nine, fine. Up without the alarm at six-thirty, no complaints, the day outside clear and sunny. So far, so good.
The same progression, though, when I returned. Feeling funky, eventually the odd tasting dry mouth leading to my lying down for a while to wait it out. Not the same intensity as yesterday, the day is certainly salvageable, we'll do the Cherry Blossom Festival in Japantown, so no complaints. It's just, you know, disconcerting.
I haven't really done anything to learn how to use the video side of my camera to prepare to photograph my guitar teacher's concert coming up later this afternoon, so I'll pass. He's hired a videographer and so he's covered and I suspect he won't need me in order to have a good turn out. So it's Cherry Blossoms today and then the festival when it continues next weekend.
Later. Felt fine on the trip over to Japantown and spending a couple of hours walking around looking for pictures. I say looking, as opposed to finding, coming back with little to show for it. Some days are good days, some days are less so and, I suspect, I at some level wasn't altogether into it. There's a difference between not finding pictures and allowing yourself to not find pictures.
So I had lunch at the Korean restaurant I've been in the habit of eating at when I'm there for a festival and came back home tired, but in one piece and in reasonably good spirits. We'll go again next Saturday and make up for the pictures. A long day, but what the hell, better days will come. Hup!
Still, no ocular events, none of yesterday's crap once we'd had our nap, no blow back from the lunch, the day has turned out well. Except for those pictures. Not enough pictures.
Evening. One or two things on television, some guitar, but not enough guitar, we'll get to bed and start the new week in the morning.