Saturday. I did get to bed early, I did scribble a bit in the notebook, I did get a good night's sleep (I think), awakening before eight, the t-shirt soaking wet. Not sure it's a good sign when you wake up having been sweating like a pig, but otherwise things seem to be good s0 we'll go with good. We always say we will, anyway.
To breakfast, the place fairly crowded, although they'd saved my usual table. No one waiting in line, no need to feel guilty. Fine. A waffle with fruit and a diet Coke, a good balanced American meal in an unbalanced hungry world. Back home, after photographing the gas sign (another four cent a gallon increase), to futz with yesterday's deathless prose before giving up and posting. OK, I'm in a rut, but a feeling somewhat better rut. The day progresses.
Later. Maybe it just takes a long time to recover from one of these things, particularly one that's lasted over a week. Anyway, a walk along the lake, passing by the local farmers market, and on to the morning restaurant to have grilled Swiss cheese sandwich (better for the ocular migraines than cheddar), ice cream and lemonade, sitting inside this time, as there were no available outside tables.
Finishing, feeling tired, we are in a feeling tired rut of some kind, waiting on a bus rather than walking back to the apartment to take another nap and listen to Moyers & Company on the radio. I needed to lie down and let the head clear, I was fuzzy headed and not altogether in one place as I was walking. Or sitting at the restaurant.
This is different than all your complaining about being fizzy/fuzzy headed prior to this cold, symptoms you thought were associated with the ocular migraines, right?
I think so. I think some of what's happening now may just be stuff associated with getting older: you get sick and it takes longer to recover. Will I recover? I suspect, another week or so at most, and life will again become wonderful (at least get me out again taking pictures). But of course I'm guessing. Maybe no more up and out at the drop of a hat - yesterday, today and tomorrow - in the future, but slower, more time in between, out and about with fewer/lighter cameras. Out and about but once a week in the future. You know, reality. Real world.
And if all this is just turns out to be whinging and blabbering like an idiot?
Well, as long as whatever it is works itself out and we get back to a more even keel (without the ocular stuff I now know how to avoid), we'd be pleased. We wouldn't shut up, but we'd be pleased. We would.
Evening. A Comessario Brunetti at six, not bad, enjoyed it. Turned to House to watch one from the middle of the episode and then on to watch the two following episodes. Why? House is not a sympathetic character. I don't think. I've described my aversion to other less than sympathetic characters. The totally over the top interactions between these characters seem interesting, but I'm suspicious. Of myself. For watching.