Even considering I'd covered a lot of ground, literally, on Thursday — walked from home to the Hawthorne Bridge and downtown, going to a restaurant I like called Bridge City Café, getting online at the Central Library, quickly ducking into Target and then Powell's Books, then spending a few hours at an art show for an artist I know before bussing home (stopping along the way at Fred Meyer to pick up the DVD of The Last Jedi) — I felt more tired on Friday than I'd expected to feel. I planned vaguely to get out during the day, for a walk or a coffee shop visit, but as the day got later I felt less inclined. I rested, read, and heard music instead. And, still, tired. On a quiet day when no one else was home, so I could simply be by myself.
(I rent a room in a house, from the owners, who live here as well. I don't blog about anything related to them or the house: I told myself that I'd only do so if I got permission from both of them to bring up anything particular here. I've yet to do so. Don't ask for anything more specific.)
I should have gotten out. Friday was a comfortable, sunny day, almost warm. Today is going to be, um, wilder: lots of rain on and off and A LOT of wind, also on and off. Just now I stepped away from my tablet for a moment to watch and appreciate a cloud break letting some sunshine in for us. Nice.
Was Friday too easy an "easy day"? Maybe. It meant I didn't get out when it would have been easy to do so.
Sometimes I cocoon. I know this. Sometimes it's an effort to get out. I know this. I still can. Ideally, by the next time I blog, I'll have gotten out.