The Summer of My Discontent

Okay, I’m not really that discontented.

And it’s not officially summer yet.

I have been saying I’m struggling with exhaustion and schtuff. Allergies have a lot to do with that … hello grass pollen. I am discontented with pollen. I met a friend for lunch the other day, and the first thing she said was that I looked like I didn’t feel good. Indeed. Congestion, sore/scratchy throat, brain fog.

I’m schlepping through the best I can. Just a couple or three more weeks and I should be able to tolerate the outdoors a little. I’m working on extra self-care in the meantime.

This week thanks to the aforementioned brain fog, and because I snapped a lot of photos … also because I'm multitasking by listening to a Jimmy Abegg interview while I type ... I’m going heavy on the pics, light on the words. Enjoy.

When babies want to take selfies.

Let there be light. And let it be pretty.

La Marseilles, la marseill-e-e-e-es, da da da da, da da da …

The blurriness is perhaps a metaphor for why I need coffee at eight o’clock at night.

French crème brulee to go with the French fleur de lis.

Don't lick that.

A metaphor for my train of thought.

  

The asymmetry is assaulting my sense of feng shui.

It's healthy 'cause it has fruit on it.

Sometimes you’re the bird, sometimes you’re the light post?

Tune me.

Suburban blight.

Rural blight.

A metaphor for my sinuses. Take two chile relleno and call me in the morning

Keep looking up.