5.07.06, Casino Royale, Franky Scale Update

Local casino visit went very well: I spent half of my "limit" but it kept me busy at craps for over two hours; Frank, on the other hand, was not only kept busy but was secretly squirreling away 5-dollar chips into his pocket and made enough to feel like he accomplished something, I assume, but not enough for Uncle W to take a cut. Turns out the casino atmosphere was much less trying for me a lot of other social situations these days. Not too draining, a nice distraction, and a good cap on the week before the original "Mr. Jones" and I sit down over coffee and discuss the Serious prior to his midday departure. Time for the heavy & time for the light. So it's late but I have Ambien (and so far I haven't found on any morning that my ice cream supply or liquor cabinet have been diminished), and I'd bump up the Franky Scale to a 9. Maybe the Oxy-cola helped. (I keep my apt door locked tight so Rush Limbaugh, or P. Kennedy for that matter, doesn't sneak in and ravage through my pharmacy at the foot of the bed. He'd have a field day. And still not lose any listeners! God bless America, huh.) Now it's time to slip back into the land of exegesis for a bit till sleep arrives.

The little things have taken on much different, greater meaning now (sounds cheesy, yes, but), like good friends, of course, but also the chance to sit over a slow cup of strong black coffee, no fever, no milk-of-magnesia calculus, no falling behind in pain management, no overly-loud crowds.