||Woke up feeling old, as if I'd never again have a
young man's thoughts. There was a dream, too, with a useful moral, which
I forgot. 5:21 a.m., sun was up, Miso meowed to be let out, I couldn't fall
back to sleep. At work I got a surprise: instead of salvage I caulked windows
all day, then laid the first little bit of teal of the RE Store's new paintjob.
(It's getting gussied up for Saturday's
UNVEILING.) The sun was blazing, I was high atop a ladder in
front of broad windows and beige walls which reflected the brilliant light.
Around 3:30 I got the bright idea to put on sunblock. Better late than never.
Thick white goo from a triangular squeezetube went on like glue. It must
have been tinted blue because when slathered semi-opaquely over my pink arms
it turned them an alarming oily purple. "They look like radiation burns,"
either Jay or Jeremy said. "That's what they are. I miss the ozone
layer," I said, and went back up a ladder. The day ended as all good days
do--in a beer. Then I pedaled to bus stop for a "cheater" up the hill. (After
a long day it's well worth the $1.25 to not have to grind up Market.) I've
seen this couple before, shopping for groceries by walker and bus. They never
seem rushed. They must be in love. I saw them share a lift ramp once. I chance
to meet Sean. He's on his way to Taco Tuesday at The Tin Hat. Turns out he
got doored doing 25 on his bike. Spineboard, ambulance, hospital. Nothing
broken but still in much pain, he's wearing his orange plastic hospital bracelet
until he feels better. Earlier in the day, an elderly lady who'd been asking
questions while I was on a ladder said in parting, "I hope you have a wonderful
life. You're just at the start." I said, "So are you--each day is a new life."
But I don't think she heard me....