Sometimes a little is just enough

Last night on the sidewalk in front of Vincent, monshu told me, "I'll make this your birthday dinner. I'm sorry, but burgers at Big Chicks..." And it turns out it's a good thing he did, too, since today he's spent more time in bed than he has on his feet. He doesn't have any worrying symptoms, so I don't think it's anything more serious than overwork. Much as the idea of a weekend getaway to Milwaukee really appealed to me, the timing seemed unpropitious. And thought I hate to be proven right about such things, I'm just relieved not to have had to catch a train today.

Burgers at Big Chicks was nothing special but it wasn't all pleasant enough for a while. The place was surprisingly busy. I was lucky to run into an artist friend whose buddies graciously made room for me at their outdoor table (and then unlucky when, a while later, they all took off for home--all except the most tedious of the lot). The cute cub who'd blown off my cocktail night was incredibly apologetic about it, then his psycho roommate was spectacularly rude to me. (But his super laid-back buddy planted the seed of a possible theme for next month: beer floats!) The Scoutmaster was there again after a long absence--with new tales of woe including a destroyed kitchen and another hospitalisation.

Eventually, it all got to be too much, so I quickly said my farewells and made a beeline for the shore. Only on the way over did it occur to me that the full moon would be rising soon, and when it did it was spectacular. It looked like a jack o' lantern floating on the water and held its tint for a remarkably long time--nearly and hour. At first I found myself straining to get back to the comfort of my flat panel display, but I forced myself to stay until the anxiety left me, standing on a pier to keep myself from getting too drowsy.

It's easy to forget how therapeutic these walks once were for me. I'm trying to get back in the habit, but a bummel around our little corner of Rogers Park just can't compare to the lakeside. I certainly don't remember it ever inspiring me to belt out the lyrics of Chills songs I haven't listened to in ages. More reason to buy a bike, I suppose. I've always been bad at unaided meditation and found nature a great help--fascinating enough to hold my attention, but still enough not to overstimulate me.

At home I found messages from the family members who called while I was out. Looks like I may be celebrating with them this weekend, which will be a retro novelty. This busy week, shortened by a day, should simply fly by. I hope it's enough recovery time for the Old Man before the onslaught of small people and psychodrama.