Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Just a Cup of Coffee


Wow, right?  Woman walking into frame.  How could I have ignored it for so long?  I have billions of photos and things get overlooked.  Lost, in a sense.  But hell, it is pure cinema.  

I want to make photographs again.  

O.K.  Maybe it is not that good.  But it is something I like.  It is more street portrait than street photography.  I like the look of people when they are not aware of being noticed.  What was she thinking about?  How is she doing now?  

My bathroom is finally beginning to come together.  It might be finished next week.  And then we can get back to what was originally intended.  So much more to do. So many thousands of dollars.  But as we creep toward fixing things, I feel somewhat liberated.  The sun is shining.  The sky is blue.  Perhaps I will live again.  

It is morning now, and Mr. Fixit is not here.  He has some car stuff to take care of, so I am alone.  Without coffee.  I am not allowed to have caffeine for twenty four hours prior to my test.  I am to fast for four hours, so I can't eat, either.  No coffee, no food.  It is silly how much an inconvenience this is.  It is also an indication of how far I have fallen and how weak I've become.  I am truly the Rain Man.  I can't stand having my routines disrupted.  


The Biden train moves along.  He now has access to Presidential information.  He now has transition funds.  Lucky Joe.  Members of his own party are already complaining about his cabinet appointments.  Huh?  Go figure.  Biden will be president of a Mad Land.  Mad Land of America, the disjointed, depreciated republic.  Good luck, Joe.  You're gonna need it.  

My next few days are hectic, and it makes me anxious.  After months of sitting, having to do things, having to perform tasks, is making me anxious.  Doctors and beauticians and wrecking crews and Thanksgiving dinner--suddenly my life is a whirlwind of activity.  I am in no shape for it.  

It feels like holding your breath and swimming to the other end of the pool underwater.  You know you can manage it, but it isn't really something to which you look forward.  

I may be wrong about the bathroom.  I just made a list of what still needs to be done.  I doubt it will be ready next week.  

After today, I still have a bevy of medical tests to undergo and a home sleep study where I am supposed to attach sensors all over my body.  How am I to sleep?  Of course, the whole idea is to find apnea and sell me an aqualung or whatever it is called.  Just a little something to make me more attractive to the girls.  

"Uh. . . you don't mind if I wear this tonight, do you?  I mean, you didn't want to snuggle, right?"

I sure would like a cup of coffee.  

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