Gorda, CA.
I didn’t sleep very well last night; I recall that after a beer or two I might fall asleep, but end up waking in a few hours and being unable to get back to sleep. Which I suppose means I ought to confine my drinking to daylight hours.
The fridge is being cranky; it works when stopped but doesn’t stay on; but it’s not a fantastic fridge anyhow and I’m happy using my supercooler, just have to get a block of ice every few days. I’m happier if I don’t have any food that I actually need to keep cool, but other than a bit of smoked salmon my Uncle Mario gave me (from his trip to Alaska) and a little margarine and cheese, I think I’m clear there. Need more quick snack foods.
I have three bottles of two-buck chuck, but didn’t bring a corkscrew (tire bouchon, corkenseer) and every place I’ve checked it would have cost me more than the wine so I couldn’t justify it.
I’m not fully relaxed yet. I don’t think I’ve quite relaxed yet. Didn’t sleep very well last night. One of the things I thought when I was most down was “Sometimes the loneliness goes away for a little while, but when it comes back it feels even worse.”
I suppose the fact that I’m eating the fries that came with this overpriced sandwich means I’m slipping on the diet. If I can do more beach walking than sitting on my butt in the truck I should be okay.
Stopped in Bishop for smoked meat products (I hate to keep saying it’s the world’s best bacon, but it is — passed on the Schatt’s jalapeño cheese bread 'cause of the diet).