That’s the best way I can describe my denying that I have a Type 2 Diabetes diagnosis. The sheepishly taking whatever drugs my internist throws my way is not proactive self-care. All I have to do is feel worse and worse until I have a stroke..

I suppose I should read the books on diabetes that I have purchased

I can spend a lot of time ignoring the problem, watching trains or porn videos or reading any book not germane to the issue.

Bad ideas on self-care include sitting in my comfy chair, drinking lots and lots of coffee, not exercising , and letting my sleep schedule match that of my wife’s.

My wife says she cares about my health , but she says “No” consistently and leaves it at that. She means well, but if I’m not responding, this is insufficient.

Ultimately my health is my responsibility.

I’ve been awake a while. But my mind can’t seem to focus on little things . There are a bunch of films (videos) from the Internet Archive that have my attention There are works from experimental film makers from the Silent Era that impress me.

I’ve managed to miss the 7:00AM broadcast of Highway Patrol, the best cop show ever. The budgetary restrictions that came with paying for Broderick Crawford’s services made the series what it was.

Right now, I need more sleep

I cook oat bran cereal on the stove top, since I don’t have a microwave oven. That means i have to clean the sauce pan. I had my oat bran with fresh mango, a shake of cinnamon and maybe a tablespoon of honey. Pretty good.

So President Hot Shot Real Estate Developer wants to turn a unique piece of real estate in a wealthy and sophisticated city back into a maximum security prison.

Huh?

I remember when the Alcatraz debate centered around the ownership rights of a Native American tribe. How did that debate turn out?

How about developing this real estate into a marvelous community with housing for middle class and affluent families? There could be offices and artists’ studios for creative types Maybe a ferry service to whisk residents to the city proper. And non residents could visit the island for its possible cultural offerings .

Having Alcatraz revert to its old function as an urban gulag is down right stupid.

Try again, Mr President.

I woke up around 0400 hours . I was hungry , or thought I was. Then I looked at all of the Rubbermaid containers sitting in the trusty Whirlpool, containing God Knows What. So I started tossing them out.I was thorough. Perhaps the half filled jar of Cheez Wiz was still edible, but out it went too.

I feel a profound sense of relief. They’re all gone!

And now, I’m just not all that hungry any longer.