The Same Plot
Friday. I seem to have gotten up and out of bed with the alarm this morning without too much trouble to head off to read the papers over a plain waffle with sliced bananas and strawberries (with a fruit cup on the side), returning to edit and then just finally give up and post yesterday's entry without admitting I was giving up. More energy was required than I had in me to give it coherence. Not for the first time and, I'm afraid, not for the last.
To then take a nap.
To then lie down and fog out while listening to the voices emanating from the radio, not quite understanding everything that was said. It's overcast in the late morning, cooler than it's been for a while, but nothing that will keep us from taking a walk. I need to go by an ATM and then get something for lunch.
And so?
And so another day like many another day in Oakland.
Later. A walk by the construction site taking the usual pictures, excavation still well under way in the area facing the building beside it on Grand, crossing the street to walk down along the lake (no sign of the goslings) to the Lakeshore ATM, running into this guy by the Lakeshore at MacArthur 580 overpass.
He'd been hollering at passing cars as he was crossing MacArthur against the light, hollering as he approached where I was standing, seeing the camera and shouting, arms flung open wide: “take my photograph”. I hesitated, but finally figured what the hell, raised the camera and took the picture, missing the arms opened wide pose that would have made a so much better image. Ah, well. At least it resolved with no more than a shout.
On (quickly) to the ATM when the light changed, stopping on the way back for two scoops in a cup at the ice cream shop, snapping another picture when I again walked by the construction site.
And that's been the afternoon. Tired, the kind of tired that finally made me remember to check the blood pressure, finding it was indeed too low: 70 something over 48. Another reading later was in the 90's over the 60's. We'll skip the blood pressure meds this evening, take readings tomorrow and see how it goes. A problem seems solved, time passes, you forget it ever existed and then it slaps you up beside your head.
Still, at least the weekly Friday blood thinner test was back on target and so we're not going to bleed to death or check out altogether if we throw a clot. Well, both are less likely if you keep the number in line say the doctors, I've (most fortunately) no experience yet with either one.
So we'll practice on the guitar and waste the rest of the day watching television and taking naps.
Evening. Watched another New Tricks while playing along on the guitar and following a plot fogged with British accents mixed together with electric guitar. I think I know who done what, but I wouldn't want to bet on it.
A similar reaction to the Midsomer Murders episodes that followed it at eight. Although I had no problem understanding the dialog, the chords didn't get in the way and I felt I was occasionally keeping up with the oddly structured plot, it too ended with my not being quite sure who'd done exactly what. Maybe that's what I'm missing: all of them have the same plot.
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