Ah, well. The owner was inside sweeping when I left, just the thing you need added to your plate as a small shop owner during a major recession. I assume the police haven't and won't come by given the reductions in the Oakland police force. They don't come anymore unless someone's been injured or the victim has political clout (I believe I read that in the news, although I added “the political clout” spout).

Yes, I had the waffle with fruit breakfast, nothing else, went to the guitar lesson and did reasonably well, went by the supermarket and bought things other than chocolate, sharp cheese, ice cream or anything else on the forbidden list. Yesterday made me a believer for some reason where earlier episodes haven't.

Any guesses why?

The journal writing was unusually dumb and fuzzy, cleaning it up this morning didn't have much effect; none of the ocular symptoms, but feeling slow and dumb here now after returning from a good long walk.

Later. Let's see: “a good long walk”. Well, a bus downtown for no particularly reason other than to get outside at noon, a walk through the City Center not seeing anywhere I wanted to eat and so a walk on to 9th and the farmers market, taking not a single picture. Well, other than this.

Heading back I passed another crew starting a chalk mural on the tiles at 14th and Broadway, another chalk mural that will be scrubbed clean sometime tomorrow morning. Or later today, but usually they get to it the next morning.

On then to walk home, detouring briefly to check out Peet's by the Christ the Light church, one of the security people telling me no one was allowed to take pictures in the area, just the thing to put me into an unpleasant mood. I need to develop a decent comeback - testy, but polite - when I run into these.

So, a walk on home, not stopping at the 7-11 look-alike for ice cream or chocolate, the head feeling fuzzy and funky, but without any of the other more interesting ocular symptoms, home now to listen to the news, put up yesterday's entry while holding my nose and start the damage again with this. Not good. We're not in the greatest of moods, the head is still fuzzy and we're probably ready for bed.

You did watch that Sherlock Holmes thing last night and didn't get to bed until after eleven.

Feels like it, it does.

Later still. Yes, the mood is more than a little funky, but it's feisty too, feisty the excuse used to open a bottle of the three bottles of sake I'd picked up at the supermarket after my lesson. There are obvious contradictions to logic and sense in this, but whatever the mood, I'm figuring sake will at least make the evening go better, smoother from here on out. So there! Yes. One down, two to go!

I moved the laptop to the computer desk in “the computer area”, the old now failed computer still sitting on the floor beside the chair where I left it after returning from the computer store. We'll look at it one of these days, but not today and, I would guess, not tomorrow. This is at least more comfortable, this laptop on the desk arrangement.

Evening. A Wallander, the Swedish one, at six. So I watched it feeling just fine, thank you, after three of the small sake bottles thinking, well, best I'd only bought three. Two is the norm, three when the weasels are loose.

Let's see how the evening goes. It's been a long slow, less than encouraging day, but we'll get to bed early and take on a new leaf tomorrow. We will. It's easy to say.