His Excuses
Monday. Overcast this morning, a bit cold, but no big deal; the temperature and the weather much as it was yesterday for the Carnaval parade. The end of May approaching, my buckos, thirty-three days until retirement!
The use of exclamation points is considered a bit precious. Has been now for decades.
When you start with the weather you've done more than enough to lower a reader's expectations. I'm back from breakfast, back from a half hour at the office letting the other side of the world know I'm still having problems with the current project; back at the apartment now, wondering what to avoid for the rest of the day. I mentioned I'd finished Murakami's book After Dark. I've started another, Roberto Bolaño's The Savage Detective, which I'm finding just fine after the first hundred pages. Quite a bit of excitement here in Oakland.
Another session with artandlife here and here and here. It really does need attention. Rien's excellent design deserves better. Still, I think I'll see if I can't get most of it done by the end of June before I retire. I've always said my photography is a lazy man's photography - and there's nothing wrong with that - but maybe I'll get more serious when I have the time to do whatever one does when he no longer has his excuses.
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