Wednesday
It was hot again today. I tried listening to music, reading--even listening to an audio book--but nothing worked to better my mood. Toward evening I tried watching television, proving the extent of my desperation. That didn't work either; nothing held my interest.
Napping mid-afternoon was the most successful gambit. I forgot for a time how bored I am. For Duke's sake we went for a ride . . . to nowhere.
It is frustrating. Though I am seldom bored if I said I wasn't now I'd have to lie. With the heat it is as though I am in prison. Poor Duke feels worse than I do. He is used to walks and runs, not forced inactivity. I sat outside with him for awhile and he halfheartedly chased a frisbee. Mostly he just looked at me and panted. Once we were back indoors he flopped on his side and moaned. I moaned with him.
I checked: it is cooler in Guadalahara. Again.
Guilt keeps me from leaving Duke and going to see the art show at St. Francis. I can't stand the thought of penning him. He's suffering enough. Normally I avoid malls like the plague . . . but they are beginning to sound like fun.
Aside from cooking and watering flowers the only constructive thing I did was to call a doctor friend. We chatted a bit and then I pestered him for the name of a good immunologist for another friend. Her doc retired and she doesn't feel comfortable with his replacement.
After the TV failed to help I gave up and surfed the web for Japanese woodcuts and read news and sports.
Best would have been to use all this time for critical thinking . . . Except I couldn't concentrate. Bedtime will be a blessing.
Out and back again
the swing out and back again--
got a firecracker?
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