Monday, April 6, 2015
Dry
I've rather quit drinking for awhile. "Rather," I say, because last night just before bed, I had a drink. I'd been drinking organic chai tea and the spices and whole milk had left a taste in my mouth that needed to be "washed out." One drink before bed. Otherwise it has been bubbly water and tea. It was not difficult to quit. I didn't get the shakes or the DTs. I just know it is time, that my body needs to "break even." Your body, if you listen, will tell you when you can do a thing and when you can't.
So now I am quite a bore.
I shot with a young model on Saturday. New skin. There is no substitute for that. You can deny youth's charms, can extol the qualities of age and experience. . . go ahead, I am with you. No I'm not. I can agree to the latter, but not to the former. There is something ever so appealing about low mileage. Everybody loves a puppy.
Easter. What can I say. The bunny did not come to my house. Or perhaps she snuck out early in the morning. I had another shoot early, anyway, with a young girl who works at Subway, then I met my buddy for brunch. Afterwards, I came home and took a nap before going to my mother's house for dinner--not quite an Easter feast, but in line with her pretty strict diet. It's O.K with me.
Then I came home to watch the season premiere of Mad Men. Only trouble was that the cable was out. I had no internet, no television. And so I worked on pictures and drank tea and then, eventually, after the lone scotch. . . I went to bed.
I do not feel like going to the factory today, and I feel I have the choice. I am listening to Flamenco Sketches by Miles Davis and feeling more Manhattanite than factory worker. I have many practical things to do, though, around the house including filing for a tax extension. Must be done.
Plus. . . I need to load up on sparkling water.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment