Know Sunday
Friday. Up after ten this morning, which makes sense, having gotten to bed after midnight. Such is life. No, I didn't overdo it last night, unless overdoing it these days is me staying up past my bedtime. No desire to do much of anything other than walk to breakfast. No thought of lugging a new lens out on the sidewalk. Maybe later this afternoon. I've been getting my head around the idea of carrying it on the street - it's a cartoon of a lens given its size - capable of seducing someone into the business of taking it from the wobbly old man and running. There's a black market for camera gear, of course, although I suspect there isn't as much demand for one of these: too heavy, too obvious, too few around and easy to check the serial number (which I haven't been able to find, come to think of it). Does this sound out of hand? The mind on numb? Could be, sounds like it to me.
Tomorrow is the Oakland Holiday Parade and then on to a Christmas party at friends out in the suburbs. Sunday I'm going to photograph cats. For someone who has a cat, who has not photographed his cat nearly as often as owning a cat requires (Sherri pointedly mentions this from time to time), this assignment may be more complicated than I suspect. Then again it may give me another direction, another look, another way to fall down on my face. A learning experience, in other words, something you usually have to pay for, delivered free to my very door.
Are you going to use the new lens?
I'll know Sunday.
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