It's been wicked cold in Los Angeles lately. It must be anomaly that the temperature is dropping down to the low 40's; it certainly is the coldest since I moved here a year and 1/2 ago. The other day I purchased some fried chicken from the KFC on Lincoln. I noticed when I was in the elevator that the bag had a KFC seal of approval for food safety. The idea seemed odd to me, the label was more advertisement than health notice. In this day, that sort of thing has become a selling point, rather than something granted. I had food poisoning, by that night. That sort of illness is much easier to deal with when you can stay at home all day.

The time spent indoors from the rain, cold, and illness has given me insight on the effects of sedentary life. I've become resistant to cabin fever. That is, I can spend a series of days without any physical activity, and yet not become restless. However, when I am at my apartment I only reside in a few places. Primarily that is in my chair at the computer, which at the most was meant for maybe 30 minutes of seating a day. It's a wooden dinner table chair, and really it would be more fitting for breakfast. My elbows and my finger joints start to swell from typing too much, it's a mess.

One thing I enjoy about this room is that immediately to left from my desk is a large window. Unfortunately, it's covered by vertical blinds that do a poor job at nearly all the tasks we expect of blinds. It's sort of comical how poorly they keep light out and insulate. The real treasure is behind those blinds. The view is something less than magnificent; outside is the fabricated apartment complex garden albeit with a more liberal distribution of trees. It's just enough of a view to take a look to clear my mind for a moment, and then to go back to work. I'd love an ocean view, perhaps one of those captain's cabin views out the rear of a spanish galleon. I'd never get anything done.

The courtyard outside my window has had its share of events. I watched my room mate's dog, Forban, lose his ball off the balcony. The poor thing looked so despondent. I couldn't find it below. During the Fall, at dusk, birds will land suddenly. The complex surrounding the courtyard offers some protection, and this area lacks any sort of wooded areas, so this is probably the best place for them to sleep. The sound of their wings fluttering is surprisingly audible. It's as if they spent the entire toiling with the wind, and they are just collapsing into their resting grounds. There is also a sweet aroma. I'd like to think it's floral, but it's sweet enough to make me think it's rust or some byproduct from the irrigation system. Really it smells like my mother's sweat.

I'm washing a thermal blanket for tonight. It was dusty when I pulled it out of my closet. It's the blue hospital blanket the nurses gave me when I broke my collar bone playing football. Someday I'll probably lose it, but it's quite a thought to think of my daughter wrapped up in it.