Wednesday. To bed to get get caught up watching whatever on the tablet, to sleep though at a decent hour getting up with the alarm. Feeling pretty good. Two days in a row. Knock on wood.

Off to breakfast at the usual time to read the papers, the day starting well, leaving the café to see what looked to be a river of water coming down the street off the hill. A quick look to check out who was doing what. The fellow scooping up the water with the bucket was using it to water the brown lawn in front of him along the sidewalk. Quick thinking to save what one could in a drought.

Home now, the haircut coming up at eleven, maybe a walk down to the construction site to see what that crane was up to that I'd passed in the car earlier on the way home. All kinds of exciting stuff happening before nine on a Wednesday morning in Oakland.

Later. A walk down and along the construction site if only to note the tall crane, a picture of the entrance at the base of my hill, a picture from across the street along Grand and then a picture off Bellevue and then home.

A bus then to the ATM on Broadway and then a walk on by the City Hall to the City Center to have a pastry and coffee out in front of the bagel shop while I waited for my appointment at eleven to arrive. Took my time, watched the people walking by, the band setting up for the noon hour concert and didn't attempt a single picture.

Haircut accomplished, a bus back to the apartment. Some thought to stop early at the 7-11 look-alike, but decided I'd had enough sugar for a morning and opted for home and a nap. Well, a lie down to float above the bed while listening to the radio drone along with the eyes closed. We have indeed entered a slower time era since we've retired. Either that or the days have gotten longer, become more or less stressful (it's hard to say) and prone (if one is not careful) to wearing you down.

Or something.

Or something.

Evening. More time watching Netflix and Amazon offerings, both on the computer and on the tablet in bed. No ambition, but the head still reasonably clear. Some time on the guitar, but not enough. Nothing on television, watched the first section of Charlie Rose discuss options in Iraq (we don't seem to have any), not a bad discussion, and then to bed.

I'm recalling this as I'm writing the next morning. How long ago? Just last night? Yet the memory is imprecise, stumbles over facts. What time again did I give up and go to sleep?