Friday, January 18, 2019
A long weekend ahead. My weekends haven't been successful for quite awhile. I head into this one with much trepidation. I try to steel myself against it, but I know when the moment comes, I will not be prepared.
I am tired, but not wanting to be a crippled old man, I push on. Let's go here. Let's go there. What I want to do is sit or sleep. It has been three months now, not long enough to heal but long enough for others to get bored of my incapacities. This weekend, though, I must rest. I must stay near my home and aid the healing.
I live in a land of vacationers, however, and think to do a series on people and leisure. If only I had the gumption right now. It is the perfect time of year.
The sky is blue after a delayed sunrise. I will take a walk. I haven't for over a week as Ili has been sick and I have been her helper and companion. But I begin shoulder therapy once again on Monday, and so I want to get everything else ready, too. I am afraid. I don't tell anyone that. But I am. Let's not talk about it. You must not tell anyone either.
And so the day wears on. I must greet it. You already have, I'm sure. I am so far behind.
Posted by cafe selavy at 8:37 AM