Saturday. I suspected I'd seen the New Tricks episode last night, although I followed along while futzing with the guitar. (We need to do something more with that guitar.) The Dalziel & Pasco soon drove me to the bedroom where I watched one or two things on the tablet before turning out the lights about ten and then pretty much going right to sleep. Yes indeed.

Awake with the alarm, the morning overcast, a walk to breakfast and back without too much effort. Still grey and cool out there, maybe take a crack at a nap right now to see if I can sleep, see if there's anything worth listening to on the radio while lying in bed, before attempting to put together the day. I need to take a decent walk. My sister is actively exercising in order to get ready for her upcoming summer vacation when she'll head out to take pictures in the mountains, actual exercise, and so I'm thinking at least a few miles walking for my own sake. Not the same thing, I'm afraid, but something.

Later. Maybe an hour's nap? An hour of semi-consciousness, anyway, where the time goes by what seems like lickety-split. Something like that. Up to find the sky still overcast and the temperature cold, so out the door in a sweater and a winter jacket, realizing both of them were needed as the front door closed.

A walk over by the lake to take a picture of Hank out trawling for what I assume is lunch, a walk on then through the farmers market taking a single less than imaginative picture before heading to the ice cream shop for two scoops in a cup. All this in something of a bubble, a somewhat wobbly bubble where the world outside was in focus, but just in focus. I couldn't quite describe what is was that was wrong, but I was feeling its effects. Strange, but also familiar from episodes past. If that makes sense.

It doesn't.

Hard to describe it to myself, let alone anyone else. Just, I don't know, a bit jittery, insular, a bit off balance, but walking along well enough insofar as the world was concerned and keeping on track. Nice to sit down at the ice cream shop, though, get off my feet and out of the crowd.

Stopped for coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese at a coffee shop near the fitness club, the sidewalks along Grand crowded on a Saturday at noon. The neighborhood, never a problematic neighborhood, is undergoing even more gentrification. Lots of younger people both single and married with kids, but with young kids not yet in school, the parents planning their move to neighborhoods with better school districts. Oh, and a sprinkling of older retired farts.

Who are wobbling about taking pictures.

Who are wobbling about taking pictures. Just not as many pictures as we have in the past.

Home now, it's two in the afternoon, the sun has arrived and I'm thinking of lying down for a look at the tablet.

Giving up, in other words.

Now, now.

Later still. Interesting how quickly you can become uninterested in a particular story line and stop watching whatever it was you were watching, The Good Wife this time. Not for the first time. An excellent series, let me tell you, I've working on Season 4, but I bailed and got up to assemble more apartment house photographs for the web sites. I'm too far behind and need to catch up.

Evening. Another of these odd ocular episodes came out of left field early this evening, went to bed thinking I'd take a break from the photographs and go back to the tablet, but the tablet went to weird places tablets don't go and so I pulled the plug, pulled up the covers and slept for an hour. Not sure what it was, but another in a long line of weirdly related “trips” that arrive without invitation and don't last very long, but you remember them well. I can't think of anything I've eaten today (other than that bagel with cream cheese) to blame it on.

The head came together well enough once it was over and so up to watch television, pop some popcorn and then get to bed by ten. Life in the fast lane or whatever oddball lane it is we're actually in.