But To Bed
Friday. At least the How Weird Street Festival is coming up on Sunday and I can get away from all of these construction site photographs. Up with the alarm without apparent effort after getting to sleep so late last night, off to breakfast on another clear going to be warm, but not too warm day. They said yesterday. We'll see. So far, maybe so good, but the humidity is high and it's getting warmer.
Later. A walk over to the construction site after nine to see what they were up to, a workman seemingly repairing or doing maintenance on the big excavator, the large main area facing Grand having to my eyes made great progress, whatever they were doing along the opposite side of the lot was close to finished and the last of the boards were being put in place that will face the cement wall.
And so obviously some pictures before returning to the apartment, the lake pretty much deserted by both birds and people. It is a Friday, after all, although I've been thinking it's a day later than it has been all week. The calendar clock thrown off kilter. Another thing to add to the off kilter list.
So far clear headed, not tired, although I'm thinking of trying for a nap. No thought to go anywhere, so let's see if we can catch up on what I'm sure was not enough sleep last night.
Later still. AT&T did respond to my unlock request, so a walk over to T-Mobile again to see if it had taken effect, this after a bath when the nap hadn't worked. Wide awake.
Out the door and down the street, noting an empty dump truck entering the construction site, the excavator that had been sitting there earlier this morning now in operation around the corner, spotting this out of the corner of my eye up the street. My, my. Something for the Art Murmur later today? A sculptor in residence? An aspiring sculptor anyway? In this neighborhood?
A couple of pictures and then on to T-Mobile to find the unlock hadn't yet taken effect. Their not quite clear enough warning on their web site that said it would take forty-eight hours means, I guess, forty-eight hours. So we'll return again on Monday. No hurry. The phone is paid up for the month.
Remembered my Friday Protime blood test when I returned home. It's out of whack again, so we'll skip today's dose with no clue as towhy it's misbehaving. Fine last week, but similarly out of whack the week before that. Theoretically I'd bleed like a pig if I should get a cut, so we'll avoid knives and guns and such for the rest of the afternoon.
It's now one. Hungry. Not yet quite hungry enough to drive me out the door, but we're thinking about it.
Afternoon. A nap, finally. Zoned right out for over an hour, some of it feeling like actual sleep. Up now to do what? Check the construction site? (Another visit too much excitement in one day?) Listen to the news? Think about going by the first Friday of the month Art Murmur later? Feel pretty good. Why would I fight so hard against doing something now that I did so easily back when?
Sounds like some weird, mind gone around the corner, problem more akin to subconscious meddling than anything you can address through logic.
Evening. A walk over at four to the 7-11 look-alike to pick up those Doritos chips and the bean dip I've been thinking about these last couple of days but avoiding, taking a picture of the construction site along the way. They are indeed making progress and if I wanted to show it properly I'd take pictures of the same areas every day from exactly the same spot to show the changes.
Another New Tricks at seven (I'm still not quite sure who did it when it finished, the confusing audio and their accents at fault), a Death in Paradise at nine and little to no guitar,. I think the chips and the bean dip gave me a flashback to Wednesday's loose bowels. How long had I had Doritos and bean dip before Wednesday's trials? But to bed. No more bitching.