Enough too of the fuzzy headed carping about fuzzy headedness. On my way into work (Driving, not walking. I have to talk with myself about that.) I decided packing up my apartment and putting things into storage and cleaning the rugs and throwing out the old computer equipment and all the other tasks are hopeless and I should simply give up. Or hire outsiders. Doesn't cost a lot and I know people who do this. Pare my existence down to the computers (a server, my workstation and maybe a web server) and the cameras. All the books up on shelves. The old bed carted away and a new bedroom set to replace it, all of this between now and my birthday in March and starting today, now that I've had my nap, I'm writing a "to do" list and entering it into my computer. Hut!

Anyone who's read this journal over time has read a thousand good intentions about getting this or that done. I really don't live like an unwashed geek in the wilderness. This condominium unit is small, but nice, and although I should do more to keep it clean, I don't exactly live in squalor. Yes, I've put off replacing the bed and the television set, but they'll get done. The sleep seems more ragged and that makes the bed more visible on my list. I don't care about the television set. I've generally lived in larger places, everything with its own place - nothing compulsive, you understand, but the records on the record shelves, the books in the bookcases, the clothes folded in the cheap assed chest of drawers I bought when I first moved to San Francisco - and friends who drop by don't usually flee in terror. Well, there were the 70's in San Francisco, but they were, you know, another time.

The New Year is coming (with the usual resolutions), but I do have two realities that I really need to face. First, I may indeed have to move out of this place if the owner decides to return. Second, I have to be ready to change jobs. Neither of these is certain, but either of these will be a train wreck without a plan. I want things tight and together if I suddenly have to pack and move. I am older. I am theoretically wiser. I can prepare for these things. Hut!

Somewhat later. Another nap. I wonder if this is due to the season, alone during Christmas. It's easy to say these things don't affect you, but they do. It's either that or my mind is deteriorating rapidly. I went back to look at my 1999 entry for today and it talks about Women, a book of photographs by Annie Liebovitz with an introduction by Susan Sontag. Nary a word about fuzzy brains or afternoon naps. What was I thinking in 1999? I was writing about a book of photographs, obviously, but what was I thinking about? Maybe I should compare my year laters more often.

I also note the fucking color of the photographs in that 1999 entry is every bit as bad as the fucking color of the photographs I took in Portland. I have learned little over the last year and nothing apparently about color film.