And Thursday it's back to the real world.
First thing, laundry, then head outside to feed the crows. Most of the crows have moved on, found other sources of food, but I've still the one with a peanut allergy and his friend. Peanut allergy, he'll eat a couple, then ignore the rest, he's waiting on the cashews. His friend is not so picky.
Then there are the pigeons. They - while reduced in number, still recognize me and flock my foot and beat their wings in my face to get my attention. They get only one round of attention per day, far from me, and I hope they begin to figure it out.
Then laundry, weeks overdue, pick up my prescriptions; I'm wondering where the Farmers Market is - usually it's every Wednesday on the far end of Baker, only somehow all this hospital time has messed with my internal clock and it takes a day for me to figure out it isn't Wednesday. Books to the bookstore and they thank me for the break I've given them; a chance to sell some of the hundreds I've dropped off.
Library, blog, home, nap, make dinner, and then be exhausted the rest of the night. I'm sleeping well, like the dead, strange dreams; largely disturbing, I try to watch a movie but I'm too tired...
Time now to get out the canvases and paints, I have some 4 weeks almost to raise rent and I have to get started. And time now to perhaps collect on my CPP - it being unsure that I'll live to that ripe old age to enjoy it better to enjoy what fraction of it I can in the moment. This is the plan.
And this is it, the rhythm for the moment. There are things to be done, and will be done and it's time now without the stress of work to start.