Still tired. This might persist for awhile so maybe I should stop reporting on it. I am not really meaning to report here, at any rate.
In "practice" terms, I am not doing as well as I might like, nor as badly as I could. Drinking remains moderate to light. While I am not following my good diet, I am not acting out all over the place and stuffing immoderate amounts of sweets in my mouth. Not exercising enough, but then again, I was on my feet for a good deal of yesterday while I cooked. Spending more than I would at home, but not justifying every whim as a holiday gift for myself.
What really appeals to me is a day in bed with some reading. I didn't get a nap in today nor have I read more than a word or two. I did get a nice drive around the Presidio and a tour of the Japanesque show, which was pretty darn nice.
The Bay was stupendously beautiful today. There was a back up on the Golden Gate Bridge of tourists trying to jam into a small vista parking lot.
Kit, Matt, and I did a little thrift shopping in San Rafael.
Always memories and sensations flooding back, often making it difficult for me to speak. (Some won't think that's a bad thing.)
And all I actually have to offer as a writer, is my version of life. — Anne Lamott
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