Rainy Saturday morning, 8:27AM. Well, the rain has stopped, after falling all night, and today could be gross and sticky and overwhelmed by mosquitoes. I think I’ll stay inside except for farmers market and coffee shop jaunts. Yes, I can feel mosquitoes even on the screened front porch. Maybe I’m hallucinating.

This was a pretty good week. Work is discombobulated, as we won’t have office access for at least two weeks, but I camped out in the mostly deserted basement computer lab and wrote a decent first draft of the program annual report. What did I do besides that? Well, I finished As I Lay Dying, dipped into Klosterman and Our Band Could Be Your Life while waiting for the new Bourdain to arrived from the library reserve list, and watched Hot Tub Time Machine. Oh, T’s 12th birthday passed, so I made him a cake and took him Ipod shopping despite his very questionable musical tastes. I worked out pretty hard, to the point where my legs are definitely feeling the effects today and I shouldn’t do cardio. I could lift, though, as I only lifted twice already this week. We’ll see.

I also had a pretty good session with my therapist, who is emphasizing that need to rediscover what makes me happy. Sure, the medication helps, but I also must transcend the idea that doing what I want to do is somehow wrong. So, for example, yesterday, while M and the boys were at the pool with friends I drove down again to the art museum and walked through the galleries. God, I love the MAM self-taught/folk art collection. And I was able to sit quietly in front of a Rothko for a good ten minutes. Now that’s a spiritual experience. Later I met M and the boys at the Lion’s Den but holy bejesus, the mosquitoes were killer. Anyway, I’m trying to get out of the house, even if only to Alterra’s or Smith Brothers, to break some patterns. Strength and energy comes from leaving the house.

I’m also working on a set of poems and photographs tentatively called Crazyman. My brother may visit mid-September, and I’d like to finish and print them up by then, so the artificial deadline might do me well.

Ok, off with S to the farmers market soon. Have a lovely weekend.

You know, I fucking hate high summer. This morning the temps are down in the low sixties for the first time in weeks, and I couldn’t be happier. Um, with the weather, at least.

So I haven’t written in forever. Quick summary:

• M and the boys were out east for two weeks at her mom’s wedding. I painted the bathroom, grew desperately ill, recovered, and watched the entire second season of True Blood.
• My office flooded this past week and I’m not sure when/where I’m supposed to work. On the other hand, I will be using “I lost it in the flood” as my go-to excuse for the next eighteen months, minimum.
• The dogs and I walked a lot up and down Port’s hills.
• S’s team is playing in today’s little league championship.
• We hit the art museum with the boys. Check facebook for pictures. We hit Kopp’s, too, and the boys are hooked.
• I’ve been able to hang out with each boy separately lately. That’s been fun. T helped me clean out my office, S and I hit the farmer’s market, and N tried to teach me how to play Wii’s Super Smash Brothers. He said, “I’m going to dominate you” and he did. I suck.
• I read a lot in the air conditioning. I finished Cheesemonger and Vernon God Little.

I’m struggling with the sense that, biologically, neurologically, I am incapable of recapturing a sense of happiness. I apologize for the dramatic statement. But every now and then I get…happy…I guess, and I remember what it’s like. And then I remember I haven’t felt that way in a long time. But otherwise I’m doing ok, lifting, trying to breathe, etc. I’m not meditating as much as I should, however. Maybe I’ll meditate now. Good morning. I can hear the train in the distance. Pete’s sleeping on his blanket in the corner. I need a shower.

Starting over.

I’m sequestered in the air conditioned upstairs bedroom with the dogs, a little before noon, although the hour feels later. The dogs are crashed, and I’d like them to rest a little longer in the cool room, so I’ll stay here and catch up on my journal. If I leave my desk they’ll follow me downstairs. Oh, I’m sur ethey’re fine. But they’re fun to watch sleep.

And how are you? The house is empty of other humans. M and the boys are out west. Their leaving is always very, very difficult. Both T and S cried at the airport Saturday. I considered driving out to see them, since the cross-the-street neighbors agreed to watch the dogs (although I still don’t understand why the dogs can’t visit as well), but 1) the temps are way high and I don’t want to leave the dogs alone too long, even with dogsitters), 2) the ride west through 90 degree heat would be a bitch, and 3) M’s mom did not sound interested in adding me to the mix. Great. Oh well. Instead I’m painting the upstairs bathroom green. I can paint rooms ok but this is a bathroom, with little corners and crevices and fucked up drywall. I’ll do the best I can. Seriously, this may need three coats. I’ll do two and let the space sit for a couple days and take another look. Oh, I have to sand, too, where the drywall has flaked. Joy.

So what else is up? Nothing, really. I’ll try to write more now the house is open and the time available. More later.