May 22, 2016

Winter/spring continues. I shuffle to the thermostat to turn the furnace on. Managed to man my studio for three or four hours of the studio stroll yesterday. I thought my effort might be rewarded with a sale or at least an intelligent comment, but when I tottered down the winding cement steps at the end, neither of those things had happened. Sweet Stephen gave me marijuana butter to bake into cookies, which I will do, probably Tuesday, when the things for which I must be alert are, for a while, at an end. I have already mentioned the irony– or maybe it’s not ironic if it’s to be expected–that the medications I take to relieve the pain in my joints are probably what caused the bleeding that caused the anemia. Though nobody knows anything for sure. On that front, I seem to be getting stronger, but by no means at a lightning pace. The hours at the studio were a good sign, though I slept heroically afterward. Still reminded that the blood cannot carry its normal load of oxygen. Next goal: get through the Cantaria concert. Meeting at school tomorrow is early, and I’m usually good early. Stabbed with agonizing leg cramps at random times for no reason at all, I look at the gray sky and murmur, “I really hate you.” Where is the record of the saint praying, “Lord, allow me to love you”?
   
I think I may be writing a play about a tiger.