Listening to demomusic makes me happy, more so with bright sunshine and brisk days to walk it to.

Andrew and I walk together to work almost everyday. It's five miles round trip, and we've been doing it so long now and through so many different kinds of weather, that it has become the parsimonious way to go to work. It takes an hour each way, but it is less hassle than the twenty minute drive through traffic and paying to park somewhere. And even though it takes three times as long, walking has less overhead than piling up a bike for a short roll down the hill.

We enjoy the time together, the conversation, the fresh air in our lungs and on our faces. It feels good to move unimpeded.

We come up with a lot of good ideas that we try hard to remember for later.

Things we didn't expect when we started walking so much: all the shit, spit, and piss you have to step over and around. There's so much of it you don't dare to lift your gaze from the pavement for long.

I often feel restless on Friday nights. If I don't have other plans, I relish an evening at home to unwind from the week. But when confronted with the unstructured time, the same old uneasiness settles in. What to do when some other entity isn't directing you? Usually I'm jittery with the anxiety of rushing as fast as I can to do everything I have to do. So I'll watch a movie or crack open a bottle of something to distract myself. Later I might feel some comfort in knowing that I could just go to sleep. I've no energy for anything else. But I do try to remember to turn on some music.

I can't convey how heavy the weight of the fatigue. I say to my friend that I'm too busy to go back to chado, that chado is work. He says, All you have to do is sleep in on Saturday morning and go and sit quietly in the teahouse. So I have to say again, But by Saturday I have no tolerence for being anywhere by anytime, and I have no energy for trying to do anything right or anything effortful at all. And chado, if it is anything, is the practice of intention. I explain that I sleep until noon, failing to have the courage to say that I often sleep until one or two. He says, You get up at noon, you go to class at two. So I say, I get up when I get up and the only thing I feel like doing is having a long brunch, so that's what I do. And then, and I know this sounds decadent, I get a massage to keep my neck from hurting and sticking. He says, Sounds pretty good to me! And I add, So quit yer bitchin', right?