Jan. 23rd, 2013

jazzfish: an open bottle of ether, and George conked out (Ether George)
Up 'til after 2 AM last night, doing workstuff I couldn't get myself motivated to do until I started thinking of it like a paper or a class project so I drank a bunch of tea. Oops. At least the work got done. Today I feel more zombielike than I have in ages.

Which is not to say I've been all here the last couple of weeks. The weather has been deeply foggy, like "can't see two apartment buildings over" foggy. Lots of foghorns coming in off the inlet. This is an acceptable metaphor for my state of being as well. I think it's fair to class this as "depression" even though it's got some obvious and some not-so-obvious external causes. That is, it's not, or at least not solely, chemical. (Causes include workstress, lifestress, and other fun things.) I mean, you can tell I'm depressed because I'm not writing here, for one thing. Contrariwise, that I'm writing this is a sign that I'm doing better. I think.

We went down to B'ham over the weekend for a US grocery run, which was mostly unremarkable except that I picked up a nice wool coat from the thrift store. Not having a car has made me acutely aware of the difference between "comfortable" and "a little too chilly" in my green jacket, and my hunting parka is warm but too bulky to be a good city coat.



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Adventures in Mamboland

"Jazz Fish, a saxophone playing wanderer, finds himself in Mamboland at a critical phase in his life." --Howie Green, on his book Jazz Fish Zen

Yeah. That sounds about right.

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