Friday. To sleep at closer to midnight than I'd have liked (to say the least), to awaken then a six forty-five, a total of an hour less than in the past. Still, felt pretty good and so up to drive to breakfast for no particular reason, maybe reacting to all the negative news, maybe being out on the sidewalk in a mask, arriving before eight to enter the dark dining area to turn on the lights and settle in at the temporary table and start on the papers.

The two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, finishing up around nine-thirty and driving home under a bright sun to take the selfie in the lobby and head up to the apartment and futz around with this.

How's that any different than any other day in the middle of this mess?

Later. Too much time on the tablet. Maybe. Not sure what other options there might be other than going outside for a walk. Not a lot of encouragement out there to be out there walking around. Listened to as much news as I could, which wasn't much. For twenty-four hours a day me, at least.

Evening. Stayed up and actually watched the Inspector Morse episode at eight. All the way through. Haven't done that in a very long time, usually bailing after maybe five or ten minutes. Not sure this was any better or worse than any of those others, but for some reason I watched it all the way through. To bed then well after nine, lights out after ten. We seem to be on this set out an hour later for breakfast schedule, adjusting to continue getting about seven and a half hours sleep. Seems to be enough.