Almost No Guitar
Monday. Up and out of bed on another cold morning to head out for breakfast, whether or not I was well enough to make the trip, well, I was, so to breakfast and back feeling as if I were teetering along an edge: one bad step and it was fall back under the covers.
Ate very little (nothing appealed), settled on scrambled eggs, toast and country potatoes, very few country potatoes. Ate not quite half the eggs, one or two of the potatoes, didn't finish the toast and would have told them to hold the coffee had they not been bringing it to the table as I entered. They know my car.
Still, home to take a nap, sweat a bit, feel better now as it moves into later morning. I have deadlines coming up which I have done nothing about during this last week on my back and I should take a look at them. But later.
Later. Yes, the blood pressure is back to normal (for me, anyway: one-ten over seventy-eight), but I'm as tired right now as I've been these last many days. No cold-flu symptoms, really, but just, well, tired.
Anyway, a walk at noon to the morning café for lunch (a grilled cheese sandwich, green tea ice cream and lemonade), sitting out at a table in the sun, the sun without a wind just warm enough to make the experience comfortable (and allowing me to get some sun around the eyes by dropping the sun glasses). A walk and then a bus back home to again lie down, the ambition level right at zero. As mentioned.
But, we'll see. We're alive, I assume the batteries will charge over time, the tasks of the day and the week and the month will eventually get done. Just not now.
Evening. Another nap as I listened a local NPR station dissect the unfunded liabilities in the Oakland City budget. Yes, I listened to people discussing numbers hunkered under the covers in the down jacket, the whisper of a chill skulking in the distance. What in the hell is this?
Still unable to sleep, up to take a quick look at that Netflix movie I'd started last night as there was nothing on at six I was willing to watch, something called D.C.I. Banks coming on finally, finishing up at half past ten. How's that for an evening?
Oddly, any hint of a chill seems to have disappeared, no longer seem to have any traces of a fever, so to bed, see how we do again tomorrow. This has been an odd cold, an odd week and I've played almost no guitar (so far).