Brian is sick as a dog, and Duckie has the less severe version of his cold. So far I’m fighting it off, whatever it is. Brian is an inveterate smoker, and he wasn’t exactly temperate this weekend. (The Maker’s Mark disappeared sometime Saturday, if memory serves.) So his immune system is more or less nonexistent. It’s not unusual for his chest colds to turn into respiratory infections. I can only hope he gets better, and gets his ass back to work, as quickly as possible. Many families these days are two or three paychecks away from homelessness. That’s a big challenge to my serenity and sense of compassion. Fear will do that.
No practice today. Apparently I neglected to set the alarm for this morning; imagine that. Walking or running outside is a pain in the ass – the wind is bitter and I have yet to unpack and wash all the warm clothes I took to LEAF. Blah blah, excuses, excuses. But the fatigue seems to be a little better. Although it could just be the coffee. Slamming the vitamin C may be helping, too.
Dreamed about Keach again last night.
“You just haven’t improved at all,” she said. “I don’t think you should come back to class.”
What the f----? Well, fine, then. I don’t see why – I think my practice is coming along nicely, despite the recent hiatus. But anyway, I can always go to Cat’s studio. So phttttpht.
Since I’ve had some luck posting pictures this week, here’s a little taste of the end of summer. Duckie’s birthday party. Shaving cream is a wonderful way to break the ice.
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