I have hundreds of images to choose from for posting now that I have sat hour upon hour cooking up photos from the way back, but whatever. This is a snap I took last night at approximately 9:00 p.m. from my yard with my old iPhone. Other than the digital artifacts you get when shooting in low light the iPhone does a pretty good job with night photography.
The old full moon. Glad I didn't miss it.
I sent the image around to my friends with the message, "No sleep tonight!" To some, I added, "Not without whiskey, dope, and Xanax."
I feel the effects of all this morning.
I had to get up first thing, though. The a.c. guy is here for the six month maintenance. I used to have to be at work before eight a.m. a long time ago. It is something one gets used to, but I am not used to it now. Seriously, he is here and I am in my "pajamas," eyes puffy, throat hoarse, hair tussled. Two years of isolation and I am a mess. Horribly.
I went to an REI store yesterday to see if they had some clothing I need. A very pretty girl let me into the dressing room. I looked in the mirror fully dressed and thought, "Yea. . . she smiled at you for real." Then I stripped down. What the fuck is wrong with dressing room mirrors, anyway. I looked like a cartoon of an old white man with Falstafian proportions. "Look away! Look away!" I almost said aloud. "It is H-I-D-E-O-U-S!"
I didn't buy anything I tried on. I had a very hard time meeting the pretty girl's smile as I exited.
Last night, my art dealer sent me this.
It happens, I guess. Even money might not save you.
Today I will go shopping for hats.
And so. . . yesterday I "hit" the gym. It wasn't actually a "hit." It was more the apocryphal "toe in the water." But it was a start. And for the rest of the day, I felt like shit. I don't know if it is the remains of Covid, the flu shot, or a combination of the two, but the only way I know is to muscle through it. Me and old Bill--we're on the come back trail.
But maybe I have developed allergies. I think it might be allergies.
I keep thinking the I will eat only every other day. Surely I would lose weight then and be much healthier besides. It would be a mental struggle at first, but one would get used to it, I think. Much easier for me would be to eat only between five and ten o'clock p.m. each day. I could do that without much trouble, but I know I would pack in just as many calories in that timeframe.
Maybe it would be better if I just got a better sense of humor about myself. Of course.
"When the moon's in the sky like a big pizza pie. . ." you eat and drink yourself half to death.
Today I am meeting c.c. at the museum, and then we will go to lunch. There I will eat and drink like I am going to fast tomorrow. It will be great fun.
I'll report back on the exhibits we see. The museum must have changed administration because for the first time in thirty years or more, they are rockin' it.
O.K. I have to make sure the technician is not stealing panties from the renter's apartment. You know how those fellows can be. Until then. . . .