Day off today.

Eleven things on my to-do list.
I did three of them.

Architecture.

There are cameras and lenses and film on my desk. I sit here a lot and wait. Wait for something to happen. Nothing happens here at this desk unless I make it happen. I can't go to the show next month. It represents a life I've already given up on years ago, and all I'm missing. The bad things I will miss outnumber the good things in that life, but that's only ever seen in hindsight. So they will play, and not think about me because that's what they do. A bridge must be built. I'm designing it in my head. Putting it on paper would constitute an act of a crazy person. Who plans out their life on paper? Okay, I bet more people than I realize. Maybe I should try it. The bridge connects lives. Connects worlds. People. It will keep me connected to the people from the world I unceremoniously leave behind. I try, and struggle with, keeping up with the ones from the last life, but for every success, there is a failure. My successes are often accidental; lives taking the same turn. I need to heal the broken lines of friendship before moving on again. These ruptures tend to multiply if left unattended. On my desk: three cameras, eight rolls of film (three unexposed), nail clipper, digital calculator watch, Sharpie, checkbook, electronic digital caliper, notes, SD memory card, USB drive, 10x loupe, 12 quarters, 22 keys, Logic Express 9, three empty pill bottles, napkins, paperclip, soft case containing one lens and one finder, two bandaids, 512k iPod shuffle version 1, CCFA newsletter, bills, lamp.

An hour there and back.

I go to the pharmacy after midnight because no one's in line. I noticed the new school supplies aisle and headed down to see if I could find a good graph paper notebook. There was a guy on all fours wearing a red t-shirt, pen in one hand, staring down at an open blank notebook on the floor in front of him. The red shirt made me think he was an employee at first, possibly taking inventory, but then I saw a couple dollar bills, and an empty paper coffee cup by his right hand. Beyond him was an actual employee who took notice, and, with cautious amusement, walked towards him. I heard him ask the guy to leave in broken english as I looped around them through another aisle. The pharmacist had my meds ready for me before I even got to his counter. The late shift knows me by now, and he saw me coming. The registers didn't work. He had to reboot. It would take a few minutes. I walked around looking at interesting pharmacy things: the array of pill holders, reading glasses, all the different kinds of Oreos. The pill holders reminded me of something I've wondered for a while. Does anyone know if you are allowed to carry prescription meds without the bottle they came in? If a cop searches me for some reason, and finds a little pill holder full of pills, is it legal for me to have those pills without any proof the I have them legally? I didn't try on any reading glasses because I would have bought some. I've been using reading glasses for soldering (and reading tiny things) and I thought about trying more powerful ones. Another time. The Oreos that caught my eye were some kind of cake Oreo. The box said "What side are you on?" The two sides were people who dunk their Oreos, and people who don't. It's kind of a brilliant way of suggesting a new way of eating your Oreos without actually suggesting it, while making the whole eating process more "edgy." The lightweight box was 1200 calories. When the registers were back up and running, there was a guy with his arm in an automatic blood pressure machine. After I left, I saw the same guy getting on my train. He didn't have a bag of anything from the pharmacy, so I figured he just stopped in for a checkup. He was in his 20s, and was reading a book.