I did wake up this morning feeling more like a human being. It's impossible, really, to convey any idea of what I'm talking about with the aching sinus-head thing. Is he at death's door or is he a wuss, pay no attention? I don't think I'd be able to really understand what it was I was talking about without having gone through it if I re-read these entries in another number of years. (Note the optimistic thought it will indeed one day go away.) Still, the more recent tired all the time even though I'm getting a lot of sleep seems to have improved. This in addition to the sinus-head thing improving. Had me worried. Wasn't sure what was happening. Looking forward to seeing how I feel tomorrow.

If I can't tell from my description what I was describing maybe I'll be able to tell from the meandering quality of the journal entries themselves? You get inside your head to a degree that's probably not wonderful with your head all fucked up and maybe it comes through in the subject matter (ow head! ow pictures! ow life! ow alcohol!). My feeling is if you make whatever you're writing easy to read that it doesn't matter what you're writing about although that's not a proposition I'd like to defend in public.

So, we'll see. The young lady who was living here to take care of the animals seems to have gotten a job with a local Ikea store, so she's gone today (for her drug test) and will be in Ikea training Monday and Tuesday. When she will actually start the job isn't clear, but I may not be able to get out and about for the one or two days at a time I was hoping. Which is not so terrible. Plenty of stuff close by, plenty of close by stuff I can avoid just as easily as if I were on the road (with the temperature in the twenties and thirties softly whispering: “where are thy gloves”?). So life goes on, with or without photographs.