Nine o five.
It’s strange how the neighbors on my street, except for Roger, are not very friendly. The ones across from my house put up their Christmas lights yesterday, a string of all white. But every time I get to N Park and Maxwell Road, I’m received more nicely, especially at the market… where I happen to spend a lot of money. I try not to be cynical of people. This morning, Lisa wore a funny red striped hat tipped with balls of white. She said she was selling more coffee than anything else. Only one biscuits and gravy order, and hardly any breakfast sandwiches… I have “Waltz of the Flowers” going in my brain. I haven’t been sleeping well because my mind is on my sister and her family, worried for the future if something happens to her. She is 74 with a few health issues. At times my consciousness feels ready to melt down or implode on itself when I’m lying in bed. Also she was considering giving our brother a call after a long silence. This could be a disaster if she gets ahold of him. Life isn’t altogether peaches and cream. For once I’d like to get a good night’s sleep.
But Christmas comes anyway.