I went out and played sober Friday night, and there was a clumsy period where my fingers weren't quite in sync with my mind; but it smoothed out, and I played, I guess, at my highest level.
During the fumbling around in the first few minutes, I had a dreadful thought come to me; wondering if I was only going to be able to play at my highest level by taking kratom.
Luckily, I convinced myself otherwise by remembering something that Dorise Blackmon (Tanya and Dorise) said once, which distilled down to: If you don't think you are playing as well when sober, it's because you are hearing everything better, and more annoyed by the tiny digressions that you have become conscious of.
So, I made 23 bucks in an hour and a half, after arriving late.
That was partly due to having had to wait until 10:30 PM for the rain to stop, and hence, getting started at about 11:15 PM.
Flood
Sacred Heart Apartments became even more like a castle than I had already envision it after 8 inches of rain fell within 3 hours, Saturday, and we soon had a moat, about 18 inches deep, all the way around the building, right up to the edges of it.
I was able to stand up on the frame of my bike and, by grappling along the wall, pull myself alongside the building, for a little while, thinking that I might indeed be able to make it to the Uxi Duxi without getting wet, but then my front tire found a hole to get stuck in, and I had to just get wet up to my knees.
The water was no more than 18 inches deep, with the street car tracks being high, though not dry. I made it to the bike trail, pedaling along, visible from only the knees up, using the "snow" knowledge that I gained growing up in Massachusetts to visualize the streets and sidewalks (and especially obstacles like fire hydrants) and made it to the Uxi Duxi, and then to the cat food store and then back the the apartment, realizing that I had forgotten coffee (d'oh!) but wound up staying in; even though it was a Saturday night and once I got out of our neighborhood (where a malfunctioning "pump" I was told was the reason we alone were in 18 inches of water) I would have been in a crowded French Quarter (The Sachamo-Fest all weekend) and it wouldn't have been raining.
I would have been a busker who was soaked from the knees down, but that probably would have helped the tip jar. D'oh! again...
It's Monday.
Sunday night I made 18 bucks in just short of 2 hours...
But I'm broke because I, for instance, ran out of toilet paper during the recent draught, money-wise, and I just don't believe in going into the men's room at the Rib Room restaurant and stuffing a bunch of (very high quality, I might throw in) paper towels into my backpack. That's something that a drinker, not a kratom addict, does...
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| Somewhere around our neighborhood... |
Luckily, I convinced myself otherwise by remembering something that Dorise Blackmon (Tanya and Dorise) said once, which distilled down to: If you don't think you are playing as well when sober, it's because you are hearing everything better, and more annoyed by the tiny digressions that you have become conscious of.
So, I made 23 bucks in an hour and a half, after arriving late.
That was partly due to having had to wait until 10:30 PM for the rain to stop, and hence, getting started at about 11:15 PM.
Flood
Sacred Heart Apartments became even more like a castle than I had already envision it after 8 inches of rain fell within 3 hours, Saturday, and we soon had a moat, about 18 inches deep, all the way around the building, right up to the edges of it.
I was able to stand up on the frame of my bike and, by grappling along the wall, pull myself alongside the building, for a little while, thinking that I might indeed be able to make it to the Uxi Duxi without getting wet, but then my front tire found a hole to get stuck in, and I had to just get wet up to my knees.
The water was no more than 18 inches deep, with the street car tracks being high, though not dry. I made it to the bike trail, pedaling along, visible from only the knees up, using the "snow" knowledge that I gained growing up in Massachusetts to visualize the streets and sidewalks (and especially obstacles like fire hydrants) and made it to the Uxi Duxi, and then to the cat food store and then back the the apartment, realizing that I had forgotten coffee (d'oh!) but wound up staying in; even though it was a Saturday night and once I got out of our neighborhood (where a malfunctioning "pump" I was told was the reason we alone were in 18 inches of water) I would have been in a crowded French Quarter (The Sachamo-Fest all weekend) and it wouldn't have been raining.
I would have been a busker who was soaked from the knees down, but that probably would have helped the tip jar. D'oh! again...
It's Monday.
Sunday night I made 18 bucks in just short of 2 hours...
But I'm broke because I, for instance, ran out of toilet paper during the recent draught, money-wise, and I just don't believe in going into the men's room at the Rib Room restaurant and stuffing a bunch of (very high quality, I might throw in) paper towels into my backpack. That's something that a drinker, not a kratom addict, does...
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