I did my dishes this morning. 6 breakfast cereal bowls, one small plate, a couple of plastic containers, a couple of water glasses, and some silverware. That represents all the meals I’ve eaten at home for the last week. I worked through the dinner hour 5 of the last six days. The sixth, Monday, I drove up to Sacramento to record a part for Tom’s album & stayed up there for dinner.
I didn’t really work through the dinner hour. All I mean is that I wasn’t home for dinner for six days in a row.
I counted up my work days per month for the year this morning. 15, 13, 13, 16, 21, & June will have 13 after tomorrow. Except for May, that’s not too bad. I’m certainly grateful to have the work but given that many of those days are longer than 8 hours, it can be tough. Heading home last night I was whipped. Even though I felt I hadn’t done a lot, I was at work from 8 in the morning until 10 at night. That was pretty much the story for the last week and will be the story for the next three days.
The maintenance needed light came on in my car Monday and I haven’t done anything about it. (Just realized it might just be the oil change timer which is bogus.) I was going to call the garage yesterday and arrange to get in in this morning but I didn’t. Today I have physical therapy followed by mental therapy in San Mateo this afternoon so leaving it somewhere for the day was never an option. This morning I’m engaged in the mental therapy of writing in this blog.
Whine, whine, whine. I’m still happy to have reduced my use of ibuprofen. Whether that’s because of the exercises or something else is impossible to say. Maybe next week I’ll have fierce headaches every day. It does happen.
Finally, Zach. Pretty soon everyone will converge here in California to release his ashes to the earth. Not really everyone; perhaps not even those he was closest to, but a largely self-chosen group of relatives. After some contentious moments, it looks like we have a plan and everyone is on board.