Yesterday, after my morning nap, we went to Rockford—Stockholm Inn (we left about 1:45) and then Target. M got clothes, we got those metal shelves—put those together last evening and organized a good bit of the library—not all of it, by any means, but we cleared maybe half the floor. Then watched Game of Thrones, then part of Silicon Valley, Veep, bed.
Just now I felt cat paws (I’m thinking and hoping) on my left inner thigh.
And after Target, Best Buy—bought a computer for about $400. I don’t even really look at the processor anymore, but it’s got 6 gig RAM and 1 terabyte hard drive—and it’s an HP, but pretty much a commodity computer.
And we got home about 4. I mowed and then pulled dannylions til about 5:30. Copied some of my files to hard drive off the old computer, but it was taking— literally, it said it’d take three hours, and it still never finished, and I went to work on the library room. And my right ear is still feeling full, like there’s stuff in it, and there’s that high-pitched sound I mostly can ignore but not always. Today talking feels a little weird—not terribly bad but like when I have a cold and feel like I’m talking through all the bones of my skull. I have a skull. (Unlike the snowman in Frozen, who explicitly tells us “I have no skull” or “I don’t have a skull.”)
So my writings—some things I read yesterday stayed with me all day, or at least reappeared in my consciousness. That Dad may have cheated on the sheep weight. Why would he cheat? I didn’t know him to be a cheater. If he cheated, it was that nice old English couple. Was it a manic-phase thing? I don’t recall, and I didn’t recall it in memory, though I vaguely remember it once reminded of it. I recall it was the blue-silver Chevy S-10, I think. But it’s almost like reading a novel, seeing these character traits—though not entirely like a novel, of course, because I was comparing what I read to the Dad I had in mind, to his character, which did not include cheating.
[From Mon., 5 May 2014, Journal 195, page 45-6]