IT WAS FORETHUNK

This is authoritative: the best midnight snack is a slice of dense lemon cake with lemon cream cheese frosting. Which, if you had forethought, would be within reach. Otherwise it's donuts, and truth be told those are only good late at night if you are stoned. I have not been stoned in decades. And my apartment mate has forethought. So I had a good midnight.

Except for the pipe smoked while waiting for the bookseller to get off work, yesterday was all about pipes that looked like an eyeball on a stick. Reason being a visit to my eyedoctor. The pressure in the left orb has stabilized, though now it looks like the right might be borderline glaucomatic. With latanoprost I should be able to see perfectly well till the end of my life.
My last words will be "I am looking at you".

The other thing about being able to see, beyond staring people straight in their face with your dying breath, is acuity and power of observation. Because of a recent tree disaster during the last storm the nearest bus stop has been moved to the other side of the intersection. There are signs where it used to be, informing the passengers of that in four languages (English, Spanish, Tagalog, and Chinese), as well as were it is now. Sumakay dito! Board here!

Evenso, people jump up and down and scream "hey" when the bus goes past.

Sometimes I think I'm living in Stupidopolis, and there's a tidal wave. Usually I remember Texas and Florida, and the irritation passes. This doesn't work at karaoke.
Where the bookseller and myself end up every week.

We don't sing. We wish others wouldn't.



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