Merits Of Guinness Monday. Up early after getting to bed early last night, back from breakfast at the usual place now before eight. So, yesterday was a long day of feeling tired, naps and feeling tired. A product of my age? My toxic apartment? My treading water? My cat? My attitude? Hard to say. It's the first time I've walked this way.
No, I didn't photograph the Folsom Street Fair yesterday. I did set out with hat and camera, fanny pack and t-shirt, bus pass and senior BART ticket, but it turned out the bus at my corner, the bus that usually runs ten, sometimes fifteen minutes late, had evidently arrived on time, arrived three minutes before I arrived and I decided to pack it in and return to the apartment. Take a run to Safeway for tuna fish and sourdough bread, have a nice tuna fish sandwich lunch/dinner and two flasks of sake before going to bed. I believe I mentioned I turned in early.
So how do I feel this morning? I'll need a few hours to find out. I'm thinking my crapping out yesterday had more to do with the fact I'm finished shooting pictures of parades, festivals and fairs, but we'll see. Time flies. We'll know soon enough what pictures I continue to take, what other dodges I'll use, how many entries I'll write of my plight.
You're not taking this seriously.
Maybe. Hard to be serious when the rent is paid and you're not too worried about coming up with the cost of breakfast in the morning. I will one of these days, I'm afraid, worry about the rent and the cost of breakfast, but then we'll all worry one day, many days after the day we're gone, one hopes, unless this financial thing they're screwing up at the moment wipes all of us out. I have every confidence they're doing their best to get every nickel we've got, the rascals.
Later. Before I retired I realize my idea of “doing something” was to get out of the apartment, walk somewhere, drive somewhere and do whatever, wherever it was I arrived. Now that I no longer go to an office “getting out of the apartment” is something I can do every day and every day brings home the fact you only have so many options, so many places to go you can find entertainment or fulfillment or whatever it is out there that gets you off. So I have to come up with some day to day stuff to keep me going while I'm inside.
Like cleaning?
Sure. Like cleaning or reading or taking pictures or building a model railroad. Entertaining comes to mind, but I'm such a fucking loner I'm not sure that's an option. I understand retirees play golf, but golf was never a favorite. Other retired friends donate time to local charities, something I could do. Rather like finding another office, but without the paycheck. People to talk with, people to have lunch with, people with whom to discuss the merits of Guinness.
|