Oops

 

The river runs north, and I jumped the gun.  Retiree's Brain?  Sometimes now I forget what month it is.  But yea. . . I got messages about Memorial Day.  Oops.  What can I say?  It was early morning.  I don't know.  Whatever.  

I could blame it on stress.  I'm really anxious about too many things right now.  I'm not reporting on them, but I wake in my sleep adrenaline pumping, heart a-thumping.  It ain't good.  I think I'm going to change my days around a bit, rearrange the schedule, do things differently.  I've become more routinized now than I was when working.  I've become more automaton than human, really.  I'm like the Rain Man.  

A change could do me good.  

I do "work," though.  I finished the first post-scan editing on all the digitized negatives.  I sat at the computer all day yesterday determined to finish.  Now comes the second processing.  They look good, I think.  I am happy I did that project.  But there is still a lot of work to do on them before I make the website.  

My eyes, however, are going blurry from looking at the computer screen.  

Three--maybe four--of my friends have Covid right now.  I have to go sit in an enclosed space with people today to watch a film.  I don't want to, but I haven't much choice.  The German filmmaker, a first wave feminist, wants me there.  I can't disappoint.  But I'm more than a little paranoid.  I guess I'll try not to touch things and try not to inhale.  

What am I to write about if I eschew politics, environmental disaster, and my own mental and emotional breakdown?  

The past, I guess.  Did I ever tell you about the time. . . hey. . . wait, wait. . . where are you going?