Slightly wider disclosure today, with scattered commentary and last-minute paperwork noticed and sent. Earlier, a surprising friend-of-a-friend thing hit me in Oakland before digging into a book that isn’t the one I’m supposed to have finished by Saturday morning. There’s Friday, swallowed whole.
I was in too good a mood to feel a type of way about a security guard briefly following me around the office complex as I got steps in at midday, or about a grocery store clerk who asked me to lift my mask to see if I was of age to buy a nonalcoholic beer 12-pack. (Hello, gray goatee for the win.)
Same-day delivery is a good thing, leading to glamour shots of beautiful flowers, part of a delightful interruption to a two-hour conversation about online-only graduate degrees, bad behavior during work meetings, hair-care regimens, dieting, real estate, stress management, dumplings and breaking news.
After signing the letter and making the call, we took a greenway lap and stopped for lottery tickets. I couldn’t focus on much of anything. Neither the rushing creek flow nor the big purple flower bloom would stay in focus, for all the foliage that kept rushing into the foreground, saying notice me.
Looking backwards through my rear view mirror late this morning, I decided I could live in not knowing what might come roaring alongside me from behind, or I could enjoy comings and goings on the sidewalk next to my parking space, and plan for some newer views through my slightly chipped windshield
Who am I turning into, when I go to the grocery store and only get what I planned, leaving several high-end chocolate bars I was planning on buying, since I know I’ve still got a few waiting at home? Not to mention the intricate math in my head about trying to get a few extra minutes’ motion logged.
You can make decent progress if you start out with everything important that can be carried, and you don’t mind leaving a trail behind you in your wake, and you aren’t bothered by random people passing by at much faster speeds on their way to different destinations or stopping to take your picture.
Not sure if I left my bed today, from the dream logic of getting on and off my scale, to driving into S.F. for a meeting, to an orange flatbed truck that got out of my way almost immediately, to realizing I’d have to go to Martinez and crack thesaurus jokes with a certain gig guy. Maybe time to sleep?
I got a long lap in from the place where I usually park my car around north Broadway, looking in at some doors with pending or moved-on businesses, getting a to-go coffee from some clearly relieved folks, and then just following my feet past a plaque and street to honor a long-time former resident.
After living within blocks of a Catholic church, city-run senior center, senior apartment complex and a mortuary for a while, we paid our first visit to our local cemetery. As we got a lap in, landscapers busily beat back grass and painted curbs, possibly in advance of upcoming Mother’s Day visits.
