Saturday. Another morning when the Times and the Tribune didn't arrive on time and so I brought along yesterday's copies. A good night's sleep, though: lights out early and up well before the alarm on another overcast and cool morning. No wind and so a comfortable walk to and back from breakfast, documenting the two cent drop in the price of regular.

You're still doing that.

I know. I write it down and it makes me wonder too.

Still, the attitude is good, leading to idle thoughts as we were walking on how to tweak the photographs, new approaches to “seeing” a bit differently, more clearly. A normal set of thoughts, these thoughts, more a sign the photo interest is picking up after a somewhat fallow period. Nothing we'll probably follow through on, of course, maybe make some minor adjustments, minor more for lack of ambition and energy than anything other. Still, as said, a positive sign.

Later. A bit tired now, the sinuses are screwed up with no desire to get outside and go anywhere. OK, overcast, going downtown doesn't appeal, maybe a walk over to the lake, check out the Saturday Ginga Mundo group I could hear in the distance, although it turned out there were just a few of them dancing and drumming this morning and so I walked on, figured I'd take a look at the farmers market.

The farmers market? Crowded late in the morning, but I entered and picked up a small cup of coffee lucking into a table by the Reggae band, a pretty good Reggae band I'd never heard of. And so, of course, one or two pictures. Still, decent band or no, up to return to the apartment. And try a jolt of pain meds for the damned sinuses. They don't really hurt all that much, but they do get in the way: fog the brain, put you in an odd space where you lose interest in doing anything much other than lying down as if you were fighting a cold.

The sun had started cutting through the overcast while I was sitting at the farmers market. Still, sunshine or not, no desire to go outside, although the outside is at least looking nice through the balcony door makes “us” feel for the better. The collective us. The editorial “us”. The much misused “we” and “us” even when I know better.

You really are drifting now.

I was thinking a road trip, just get out the door and drive to a specific place in the next week. I've been reading about the drought, maybe a trip to take photographs. Drought pictures. Or are we just drifting with this thinking? Hallucinating, giving in to whatever?

Later still. And so the sinuses started behaving and the attitude straightened itself out and so naturally I sat down at the computer and put together another section of photographs and added them to artandlife. There are now six sections of 2015 Carnaval photographs, some one hundred and thirty or so photographs, a record number for a one day photo outing.

Which means?

Which means it's five in the afternoon on a Saturday and the morning blahs are giving way to something better.

Evening. Nothing on television and so I assume to bed and the tablet after a little more time with the guitar. The two of them sit on their stand and stare at me from across the floor, so I still pick one up most days, go through the scales and chords, think it would be nice to rekindle the interest, but nothing has really transpired.

The ennui of the morning and early afternoon are gone. I'm sure the pain meds helped, but I've always thought, since the head clearing in the late afternoon and evenings is common, with or without the meds, usually without, it's somehow just the way our days are structured. Feel good getting up and heading out to have breakfast, slowing down in the late mornings and early afternoons with the sinuses and then back together in the evenings. And no, I have no idea.