Thursday. Opened the bedroom windows and balcony sliding glass door and turned on the fan at the foot of the bed last night to get what I'm guessing was a reasonably good night's rest, awakening at a quarter to six to get up and head out for breakfast on another clear skies morning, wearing just a t-shirt under the light weight summer jacket, the jacket more to provide interior pockets for the glasses and the phone.

Took a picture of the Ford Go-Bike rack and its nine bikes just to do it (it has spaces for nineteen) and arrived at the restaurant at five minutes to seven, the doors open, one other customer inside.

The two strips of bacon, eggs over medium, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, finishing up by eight-thirty and walking home under what was now a much warmer bright sun. Another picture of the Go-Bikes, three of them remaining, the usual (seed pods?) on the tree across from the theater, a lone bicyclist under the 580 Overpass (having forgotten to reset the underexposure I'd dialed-in for the earlier seed pod photograph, but remembering and resetting the camera as I walked) and then the construction above the sidewalk at the base of my hill.

Another selfie in the lobby before settling in to post yesterday's entry and then process the morning photographs, a little upset in looking at how I'd processed yesterday's pictures. More underexposed than they should have been, my problem in working with Lightroom and Photoshop.

Sloppy, my son. At least you're consistent.

Consistently embarrassed without doing anything about it.

Later. Warm out there and so hiding inside spending the time watching a couple of newly released episodes and catching up on new Elementary episodes on the tablet. No way I'm going outside.

Evening. Went downstairs to check on the mail, taking with me some plastic and paper odds and ends to toss into the recycling barrels in the garage to indeed toss the items and then return to the apartment. Wait a minute. I'd forgotten to check on the mail. Back downstairs, two pieces of junk mail inside, and return to the apartment. The second time I've done this in the last couple of months. Head out the door with the brain turned off to forget the primary reason I'd set out.

Stayed up and watched the French Spiral – Season Six, Episode 5 at eight, a series I haven't been watching this season, but one I'd followed some time ago with real interest through its earlier seasons. Silly me. To bed afterward at nine, to sleep with the fan running at the foot of the bed with the bedroom windows and sliding glass door to the balcony open wide.