Labor Day Weekend
Friday. To sleep early enough, even with the lying in bed reading before sleeping, only to awaken more than once (or twice or thrice) to get up, take a leak and return to turn over to a place where the muscles weren't sore and go back to sleep again before getting up finally with the alarm. A good night's sleep for all that? Not sure, I feel pretty good, a certain amount of uncontrollable foot tapping going on at the moment. Foot tapping. Unusual, these days, not sure it's a good or a bad sign.
It looks like it's going to be another sunny day. Not sure what to do, what's ahead, but there's a demonstration downtown tomorrow and the Oakland Pride Festival Sunday. I was going to say Pride is always good for photographs, but I've gone through last year's production and remembered I was unable to come up with more than one section of photographs and had blown a number of exposures.
But not this year.
We have learned.
Later. A bus over to the ATM on Broadway and then a walk farther on to the City Center, taking a quick photograph at Latham Square knowing I was hurried and did but duplicate the scene I'd taken yesterday, a poor statement on a photographer's eye and ambition.
At least the focus and color of recent photographs have been significantly better than many taken at that last year's Pride when I compared the exposure-shutter speeds recorded then, which showed afterward that something was not working with the equipment, something I should have caught when I was shooting. Did I have the offending lens in question serviced after? Do I remember? No, I don't. Wasn't the camera. Ah, well. Something to keep us on our toes on Sunday.
Nothing that appealed in the City Center so I hastened across Broadway to catch a bus as it was arriving, getting off at the 7-11 look-alike on the way home for an ice cream cone and a packet of almond M&M's. Thought twice about the M&M's when I read the calorie-sugar-sodium content on the label. Ah, well. Shouldn't allow reality to become depressing.
You're still working on those three pounds?
Under of a pound over target these last two mornings, we're working on them.
Later still. A slow afternoon, not much getting done other than napping while listening to the Syrian news. The nap attempts were OK, not refreshing enough to be useful, and the news was stressful. What drugs are these people taking?
Evening. Still warm and humid, the bay area temperatures always warmer in the spring and in the fall; fall coming from the feel of it. Nothing on television at six, so we'll play guitar and see what's palatable later. You'd think I'd know the schedules after going through this every night for years, but I mostly don't and obviously won't bother.
Later now. I did remember, when the British old(er) retired police detectives chasing bad guys in idiocentric ways came on it was followed by Dalziel and Pasco which, I must admit, can be interesting to this so discerning television palate and so watched it with some interest.
And played along on the guitar - back and forth, back and forth between this week's assignment of chords - thinking these people I'm watching are all idiots, but idiots of interest. So much for a discerning palate on a Friday before a Labor Day weekend.