I'm just a cock-eyed pessimist

At the Astoria cafe on Streatham High Street and early enough for breakfast. Haven't been here for at least 2 years but the guy still recognized me. Somehow totally walked by it on my way up - don't know why. I'm really worn out from just this little bit of effort - my body's overheating and my ears are plugged up.

All things told, I think I won't be out too long this morning. I'm already worn out and I have a lot of things to do at the house. Like sleep. And, oh yeah, write up a review of the show we saw last night. And do some laundry. But seriously, I just want to lay down again. Hard to believe that decreased lung capacity could be so incapacitating. I suppose my immune system is sucking up energy just trying to make me better, too.

Mmm, but a nice cup of caf tea - milky and full of sugar. Good stuff.

Today consisted of a lovely couple of hours Chez lovelybug, where I was pleased to be presented with my long-missing Fragrances and Flavors of Sicilian Cuisine (recipe for Eggplant Enchiladas to follow). Then, exhausted, home for a shower and a soak (an attempt to work out the soreness from my coughing) and a nap. Before shadowdaddy came back from his Tour de Britain ride/watching, I finished my review of The Mysteries as performed by the South African troupe Isango Portobello. (I found it too religious for my tastes.) Then we went to booklectic's house for her Fete Worse Than Death, which I was unfortunately not in good enough health to truly enjoy, as, after a really nice conversation with notintheseheels, I decided I'd burned through my energy for the night and headed home. Which is, of course, where I am now, yawning and ready to call it a night. shadowdaddy is telling us the story of his bike ride and wechsler and I are both feeling much more worn out than he is, which is kinda sad. Anyway, night all.