We're Hopeless
Wednesday. Up at seven, to breakfast and back by nine, off to the guitar lesson to arrive at ten. A good guitar lesson, I'd say, we whipped right through the assignment and went on to the next lesson on the list. Which is good. It's only taken me, well, we won't go into that.
Less good, perhaps, although I'm not sure about this anymore, is the odd sinus-upper palate out of whack, want to lie down feeling that came together (without any encouragement from me, let me tell you) before heading out for the lesson, not leaving until later in the middle of the afternoon. I took a bus downtown in the morning in the middle of it to pick up some prescription refills, have a raspberry cookie and a mocha java in the Rotunda building, and took a picture in the Occupy area as I passed, so I was able to get out and run around, but still: late morning, early afternoon unpleasantness.
So a nap and then another trip over to the morning restaurant to have lunch. A proper lunch. Hungrier than usual, I'm not sure why. I had a similar set of the munchies not many days back. They seem to be unusual, although this makes two in the same week. I'm still sitting at one-sixty, haven't moved more than a pound or two in either direction, mostly down, so who knows? I'll go with the munchies as long as the weight stays on track.
The weather's been great. Heavy fog this morning, but burning off in the later morning and, sitting here now with the PBS News Hour mindlessly droning on in the background, it's warm enough to go out in a t-shirt. Yes it is. Let's hope it holds until the weekend and the Chinese New Year Parade.
Evening. The Wednesday Scandinavian police procedural at six. I got through the first one, an hour in length, set in Sweden in French Revolutionary times. Barely. Then, the contemporary Australian one set me on edge. Click! There are better things to do. A run to the store for something to eat, maybe. I'd say pick up some sake as well, but I'm thinking I don't need any more of that right now. This evening.
Next paragraph, an hour having passed. To the supermarket and back: bread, sandwich stuff, orange juice, a cup of noodles package, cottage cheese and two of the small bottles of sake. What the hell, we're hopeless.
|