Later. A nap, yes, an hour or so of semi-sleep, up to tune and pack the guitar before heading to the lesson feeling tired, yes, but without (again) any of the various ocular symptoms. I sat out on his patio waiting before the lesson started, taking one or two pictures, the lesson itself I'd say uneven, but going along reasonably well. I think. The practice went well this last week, at least.

I stopped and parked for lunch at the usual place on the way home: a croissant, ice cream and a Coke. A real Coke made with sugar, the high fructose kind they warn you to avoid. I was tired, I wanted a lift - sugar - before heading home and another nap. I suspect these aren't altogether normal, all these naps followed by more naps, and this second one ended just now with hints of an ocular migraine.

So now it's coming on six, the day outside is really nice and I'm thinking I'll watch whatever I can find on television before turning in for the night, sitting here now coming off the nap and suffering the last vestiges of the symptoms I've described. We'll see how it goes tomorrow.

I suspect I should mention this to the neurologist, if it keeps up for too much longer, especially since I'm planning on driving up the coast to Portland next week. In the past sleeping all day usually meant you were recovering from something - sickness, infection, lack of sleep - but this? What is this?

You worried?

I'm not worried, but I'm thinking I could be acting a little stupid. I'm not sure what can be done about long strings of naps. How long has this been happening now? A month? On and off for the year? Do I even remember? If it keeps on does it then mean these symptoms belong to something more sinister than ocular migraines? Or I'm getting old and you take naps when you grow old? New territory, I guess, not sure what the navigation rules are and when to send up a red flare.

Evening. It turned out, with all the napping, I'd missed four calls from Mr. E suggesting we get together with Ms. R at The Last Chance Saloon this evening in Jack London Square, learning this when I was finally up near the phone when it rang in the living room. Taking the call I said, after this long day's slow crawl of naps and ocular incidents, well, yes. Of course. If we're in for a penny, we're in for a pound.

So I drove to Jack London as it was approaching seven, parked in their garage and found Ms. R, Mr, E and Mr. S sitting inside at a table, the outside patio and tables at the entrance quite crowded. I walk by the saloon now and again in any given month, but I haven't been in the place for a long time, have never found their out of kilter, set at an angle, floor particularly clever or comfortable, so it has been a while.

Two glasses of Porter (not bad) while catching up on the happenings since we've last seen one another, a walk then next door to the Haven with Ms. R and Mr E for a cocktail with something to eat at the bar. Nice bar. I no longer know anything about the current after work night life around here - DnB, the ongoing fascination with elaborate drinks - the Haven (evidently) a recent iteration on this cocktail obsession and it was, I have to admit, interesting, entertaining and expensive.

And, for reasons only known to the Fates, the evening has worked out quite well. I'm alive, I'm coherent and I'm back home now at ten-thirty to briefly sit and scribble this. A good evening, caught on the fly, and back home in one piece.