I don’t usually go back and read what I write, which is prehaps a bad idea for someone who usually does his blogging at various levels of intoxication. You see, sobriety is for the editing process. No, I’m not an alcoholic. At most I drink a couple nights a week, which is pretty sparse considering the standards around here.
I’m struck by how damn sentimental I am when I’m drunk. A sentimental drunk is as bad as an angry drunk. Also, I’m not remembering what I’m writing about. That’s even more troublesome. I used to pride myself on recall. I guess I’m getting old. It hit me today when I found I couldn’t remember the capital of Niger, despite getting third place at my junior high in the Geography Bee. I could have gone to state if I remembered what body of water the Danube empties into and location of Java on a blank map.
Oh well. I’m going to be more careful now. Also to come: Pictures of me. Reports on Ise and watching an old man die next to me on a follow-up visit to the doctor.