Meteorological confusion

 

I am told that it was foggy in San Francisco this morning. Here in Sasquatch the whole day was bright and sunny. Yet I felt like I was in a fog. Still do. I hate it when that happens.

It is rare for me, but today I felt it: it's as if I am watching myself live and move and have my being, talk and write and cook and such, but I am watching someone else. As if I am a kind of passenger on myself rather than myself. A little dissociative, to use the clinical lingo.

Had a success with my nephew, though. Been waiting for him to be the right age to give him The Dangerous Book for Boys. He loved it. Uncle Ex Cathedra is happy about that. He's making a go-kart and lobbying his parents for a Swiss army knife.

And physical exercise continues to give me what mental stability I have. Another trip to the local gym to work off a lot of dissociative steam. I told my mom how strange it felt, that the bookish introverted kid I was, now as an older man, bets his sanity on barbells! Not what anyone would have expected. She agreed. Not what anyone would have expected; could be my epitaph.