Sunday, May 28, 2017

This Sucks Because Q Kept Texting Me While I Was Writing



I try to make life passable.  I try to keep up with things.  But there are so many, and nothing I do seems to be right.

I've just spent a bunch of money having my attic insulated.  It seems to work, but the a.c. still struggles to keep up with the semi-tropical heat.  And it is getting hotter.  I may have to buy a new cooling system.

Always more money, no matter what.  I am doomed.

But yesterday was beautiful and so was I.  I ran and went to the gym and lay in the sun for half an hour.  That is all that I can take, but even though it was ten o'clock in the morning sun, I got brown as a nut.  Then I made my lunch and did errands on my scooter.  Then it was time for some wine, a book, and a nap while my computers updated.

Last night, though it was no night, really, now that the sun never seems to go down, we had an early sushi dinner at a pretty good place.  The waiter remembered me from another sushi place I used to go to years and years ago.  We said hello to one another in recognition, and when he asked what I wanted, I asked him if he remembered.  Holy shit--he did!  Everything.  I was amazed, really.

Tuna kobachi,  rice, edamame, sake.

Afterwards, in the flaming early evening, we went to another fish place to have a tequila margarita at the bar. There I watched the NBA finals.  It was the third quarter.  We were back home in time for the fourth, but I couldn't find the game.  Ili, clever girl, knows how to use the search function.  I found out that the series hadn't started yet.  I was watching a rerun of last year's finals.  Ho!

So we smoked cheroots out on the deck and drank whiskey.

But today will be hotter and I will worry.

Still, I'm brown and the hairs on my arms have turned blonde.  Denis Johnson and Greg Allman both died this week, both in their sixties, both from liver cancer.  My old college roommate asked me the other day, "How do people live so long?"

I don't know.  Sometimes they don't.  But for sure, not everyone gets to marry Cher.

And the rest don't have to.

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