Anyway, the dry waffle and sliced strawberries and bananas on top for breakfast along with a fruit cup and coffee, back home running about a half an hour late to finish off yesterday's entry and post. As I did yesterday.

This morning we hit the wall. Got the journal entry up, but not sure it was in any shape for publication and felt just, I don't know, oddly fuzzy and disassociated. A brief lie down and then out the door to take a bus downtown for my haircut appointment at ten, stopping by the ATM on Broadway and then waiting on the free shuttle in front of Sears. Didn't feel like walking.

The haircut went fine, we're sitting down after all, little effort required to appear rational, out the door after some forty-five minutes to then walk back through the City Center to pick up a box of Good & Plenty thinking the sugar or the licorice or whatever was what I wanted. No coffee or buns or such out at a table, but a walk on to Grand where I waited for the bus.

And waited. No bus. A walk the rest of the way home to lie down for a while. Felt much better as I was leaving the barber's chair, but still. Where did that come from? A bit different than other experiences, they're all a bit different, but with the same underlying current. Not tired as such, walking is no problem, but a bit disconcerting to be walking the streets of Oakland feeling less than coherent. Less than ready. Less than something.

Feel better now that it's one in the afternoon having just finished the weekly Protime blood test and phoned in the results, the number out of range so we'll have to make an adjustment. The day is nice, sunny, a bit cool, but not cold. Maybe something to eat later, although I'd picked up an ice cream cone and a roll of Necco wafers and eaten them on the way home. Not sure that's a good set of choices for your lunch. Or anything else.

So we have no idea what causes these things, but we're feeling pretty good at the moment and suspect we're home free through the rest of the afternoon (and evening). Let's hope. Diddle-dee-dope.

Later. A walk to the morning café to eat something for lunch, although I wasn't really hungry, taking the usual route that starts along the lake noting there was but one cormorant on the boom in front of the white columns. Where were the others? Thought about that as I walked on. There have been one or two other times when I've found all of them gone. Do they leave in a group? Is there an old chestnut in cormorant circles that starts: “one hundred cormorants walked into a bar one afternoon....”.

Lemonade, a pastry and ice cream for lunch. OK, we're hopeless, no way to justify that, but my waitress was adamant that I take the pastry and didn't charge me or allow me to leave a tip (after the Thanksgiving tip I left for breakfast I suspect) when I left.

Passing by the lake again on the way home I saw the line of cormorants had returned in the distance and took a picture or two to document the fact. The light was odd in the now afternoon sun, changing the light as it came in almost parallel to the ground.

I'm not sure it was the lunch, but I was obviously not quite home free for the afternoon, the series of symptoms that had been ongoing through the lunch now increasing in intensity and putting me in bed for another hour, up finally after finishing in the bathroom (some pounds lighter). Just a bad day maybe, no blame other than for the ice cream (Good & Plenty, Necco wafers and the rest), I would guess.

You don't seem all that good at guessing.

Or imagining, assuming and suspecting.

Evening. Zip on television, all the PBS stations seem to be raising money. Thus it goes. To bed early, see if I can read something as in a book, rather than a magazine article. I once did that. Read novels and such, skipped out on television. I have many books taking up space around these walls. Do I have a Maigret I haven't read? Might.