Getting Stranger
Thursday. I slept in later than usual this morning, up and out to breakfast by eight-thirty, back by nine thirty-five. Not only coffee with a waffle, but taking another cup with me as I was leaving and drinking it when I got home in time for my sorry assed Korean soap. Gives me a speedy edge that seems to help with the aching sinues-head, coffee and the pain medication working together similar, in a very junior way, to mary-jane and cocaine.
Not a combination I'm familiar with anymore, you understand, not that I was all that familiar with it then. Getting up later than usual this morning the sinus-head thing seemed to come on strong, whacked back by the time I'd finished breakfast and the medication and the coffee had kicked in. If this really is a result of that jaw operation I had years ago now, where I learned later the surgeon got up into the sinus area to open up my air passages, I'm impressed with the damage you can do and how long it can last. Such is life.
Getting worse or getting better?
Who knows? Better, worse, it continues, but continues in a way that's manageable and doesn't lead to much more than carping here and an occasional urge to crawl into bed and pull the covers up. Nothing like the Michael Jackson's and Elvis Presley's of the world, living on needles and doctors less than slavish to their Hippocratic Oaths. We are just laying it out, no complaints given some of the other options this world affords. I suspect people my age lay more money on street people for this reason. There but for..., well, my eyes seem to be turning brown.
I arranged for my apartment manager to feed Ms. Emmy starting Friday, but I'm thinking of talking with my sister later this evening and putting off the drive until the weekend. I talked about taking my time driving. Since there's now no “event” I need to attend, no deadline in arriving, I can make it easy on the both of us and drive when the driving would be better and I can take my time. And maybe, I don't know, take the train. Or have I said that before? Drive, train, drive, train. Mary-jane and cocaine.
Later. A walk downtown, a walk around town, a walk back to the apartment, the head clear, but in a sinus sensitive bubble. OK, a good walk, no sore muscles, the afternoon clear and sunny, the temperature just fine. Still, a sinus sensitive bubble. What does that mean? It means sitting at a table drinking a cup of coffee seems much like sitting at that same table without the sinus trouble. Look right, look left, take a sip, life is fine. Walking, well, it's different. How different? In what way different? Words fail. So why try to describe it? I think the issue may to a large part be something else, my caught in a rut soliloquy comes to mind. Just that and a whittling away of inhibitions about putting it online. Just another jerk who hasn't figured it out. My, my; not so clever I.
Then again I think I've talked myself into leaving Saturday morning instead of tomorrow, if only by my delaying a needed trip to the supermarket to stock up on cat food. Well, actually, I will make the run later. It's middle to late afternoon now, plenty of time to do what needs to be done. Odd to see my head in this state though. I do want to go to Portland. I, for whatever reason, seem to be dodging every which way to start. Life in a bubble.
Later still. It's now after ten. A run to the supermarket for, well, cheese, crackers and sake. And peanut butter. No cat food. Life is strange and getting stranger. Here in Oakland.
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