Unless It Isn't
Sunday. The sun is shining as I write at nine this morning after breakfast at the usual place, the ladies remembering I'd had a chest cold before I left for Portland and bringing me a large cup of hot water with lemon slices without my asking. Which is nice. A friend is due to come by and pick up my F3 to use in a photography class she's taking at Laney college that starts today. I do like the F3 and use it every now and then (not so much now as then), but I was somewhat taken aback when I realized I needed to familiarize myself again with how it worked. Still, she's taking a beginner's class where they want you to use a film camera, the less automatic the better, and learn from scratch how to make images so it's best she wade into it on her own. She might even read the manual. Film. I remember it.
OK, what to do? I have small barely detectable urges to accomplish something, but what on a day when the sun is shining (occasionally through the clouds) and the air is reasonably warm? I have a list. I mentioned yesterday I made a list. No rule I have to start with the first one entry or the last entry, the easiest or the hardest, but let's see. I think the tax return can wait, don't you? Maybe....
You do understand the Super Bowl is being played today?
Ah, I seem to have forgotten to add the Super Bowl to my list. Easily remedied with a pen. Super Bowl Sunday: “watch it”. Progress, here in Oakland.
Later. Well, maybe not the Super Bowl. What was I thinking? Fox and its “news” organization have soured me on watching anything Fox might produce should my viewership add to their income. And did I mention my reception is shit since I don't have cable? Yes, I believe I did.
Later still. Something happened. What can I say? I cleaned the living room. Well, by my lights, I cleaned the living room. I suspect the bathroom and the bedroom are next, although not until tomorrow or maybe Tuesday since I've had my first flask of sake. I understand this is a yawn for you all, but I'm sitting here looking at the results of my efforts and I'm really happy about it. Reasonably happy about it. I sorted things and fixed things I haven't had the energy to fix or sort in two or three years. Fucking amazing.
Fucking amazing?
Well, unless it isn't.
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