Saturday Lights out late last night, after eleven, having checked out a series on Netflix that I figured wasn't going to be all that great and found it kept my interest for three episodes running. Still awoke not long after five, the chest sore as hell, as it happens, taking about an hour for it to ease off as I listened to the news in bed. Set out walking to breakfast under clear going to be sunny skies, smoke out there in the distance, but not looking all that bad. Still wore an N95 rather than the regular mask and hoped for the best.

The plain waffle with sliced bananas and strawberries, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, the weight looking surprisingly good on the scale this morning, finishing up just after nine and setting out for home under now sunny, going to be warmer, skies. Best I'd worn a t-shirt and light jacket without a long sleeved shirt. Took the usual set of pictures because I always take the usual series of pictures to include one of the cones the police had been setting out blocking off El Embarcadero from Grand when I was walking in. They'd done the same thing recently and I was wondering what they had planned.

The selfie in the lobby taken hurriedly, as most of them are, getting them done before the elevator arrives. Tired and short of breath by the time I get home, short of breath more for wearing a mask than anything else was the thought. Posted yesterday's entry, processed today's pictures and here we are.

Later. Watched the golf tournament on television, but bailed before today's round ended and settled in with that Netflix series that had kept me up last night. It has fifty-two forty-five minute episodes and I can't believe I'm not going to give up well before it ends, but so far I'm skipping right along.

That doesn't tell anyone much. What's the title, what's it about?

I'm too embarrassed to say.

Evening. Nothing on television and so I listened to opera for the first time in a while. I still have a complete stereo system with turntable, CD player, tape deck and the like. Not state of the art anymore, but it works just fine and so listened and remembered some of the operas I'd been fortunate enough to attend at the Met when I was in school in the sixties.

Most of my friends were heavily into music back then, but not many of them were into opera. Actually, can't think of one. Ms. C., who'd been a member of the London music scene in the sixties, mentioned it was more common to find people with mixed music tastes like mine in Europe.

And that was it for the evening. Lights out at ten, but it still taking an hour to get to sleep. Is six, sometimes seven hours of sleep enough?