This morning I got myself up, made breakfast, got myself out the door, grabbed Clif bars at the store and a latte at the coffee shop, and caught the bus to the zoo hoping then to catch their latest red panda addition. On the way, I realized that while I’d remembered to charge the battery for the Nikon, remembered to put it in the camera, remembered to take both lenses with me, I’d forgotten to put either SD card in. There was $25 down the toilet to buy one on the way, when for me $25 might as well be $100 or $1,000. Did I manage in fact to catch the zoo’s new red panda? Yes, I did. Was it worth the $25? It likely was worth the three-hour stakeout, but was it worth the $25? I guess we will see. And then the day had one last wrench: a total transit clusterfuck because some woman downtown had a gun. Fuck money. Fuck guns. Fuck fatigue. I’m so tired and put off that I’m thinking the best choice would be not to look at the photos tonight, to save them for tomorrow, for sanity’s sake, just in case I’m wrong about the shots I think I got, because I’m already close to a meltdown and, honestly, even good news on that front could push me over the edge. I need flatness.
Mental Health Money Photography Self