Thing At Nine
Monday. I don't quite remember when I got to sleep, but it was around ten (which is good). Not so good that I didn't touch the guitar, but a day's vacation (a Sunday, after all) during a week's practice can be rationalized without too much trouble. I did awaken for about an hour around four and found it difficult to get back to sleep. A drowsy hour, but a closer to awake than to sleep hour, so up well after the six o'clock alarm at seven-thirty, the mechanism taking its time to start.
Still, off to breakfast and back, a photograph of the gas sign with the price of regular now displaying (it was out yesterday, although the price hadn't changed). Exciting stuff for this early in a week. The pandoreas are still holding out with two clusters of flowers. A semi-tropical plant. It's probably going to like the coming change over these next decades with the new weather.
I think a nap and then probably a walk. A good session on the guitar and our work for the day is done. Our scheduled tasks for the day are done.
Later. UPS at the door. What in the hell had I ordered? A walk down the stairs to pick up the package. Oh, the camera card readers I've had on back order with B&H for these last weeks. I'd checked them now and again to see when they might ship, so I was interested, but didn't snap to the fact they were due to arrive today, something that's been at the back of my mind now since I've ordered them. Short term something or other loss. Chalk up another one.
Assembling the thing took some time. Lots of packaging materials, four readers that fit into a common case. Seems to work. Clears the desk of multiple units and cables and it upgrades the thing to the higher USB 3.0 speed. All of which is good, none of which is in the least bit necessary. Consumption for the sake of consumption. Yes, a neater computer work area that sits in an apartment that would make a good “before” picture in a before and after illustration in a how to clean up your apartment magazine article. But you know that.
We'll try the nap, now. The sinuses a bit active. The sinuses are a product of errors during an operation and not a reaction to a change in seasons, pollen or temperatures. I think. Is this what people who have allergies and such go through or is it something different?
How much of the fuzzy head is related to sinuses, how much to other factors? Questions perhaps that have no answers. No use to ask, although I do ask the doctors. They don't say one way or another other than through their body language. Which is both clear and instructive.
Later still. Put together the Rockridge photographs for HereInOakland, discovering I'd somehow screwed up the year in the 2011 section yesterday when I'd added the current 2013 group to artandlife. Oh, well. Caught the error, all is well in Dingle Dell. Better still if the photographs themselves had been better.
Nothing in the nap. Tried, about an hour listening to the radio turned down low in the background, but no sleep. Beep. Up to walk then over to the morning café for a BLT and a lemonade. No ice cream for some reason. On then around to the ATM and then back by the white columned pergola along the lake to sit for a bit and contemplate the day, if not the world or the universe. Keep it small on a Monday.
Back home to listen to the news and play this damned guitar. One good session today and we're ready. He said. Confidently? I would hope after all the time we've put into this over the last month.
Evening. There doesn't seem to be anything on television until nine with another episode of the British Scott and Bailey detective series so we'll play guitar and fake it until then. Fake playing guitar and fake it until then.
I spent better than a decade without a TV set in my twenties and thirties, never missed it a whit. I did eventually catch up for some reason on those old Star Trek chapters I'd missed when I returned in my forties, but I've been a tepid TV watcher since then. And now I'm babbling on every evening about subtitled foreign detective series I find idiotic and offensive.
Yet you watch them, go on and on about them and still keep watching?
I'll watch this Scott and Bailey thing at nine but skip the bitching.