Thursday. Lights out at nine-thirty, my lights out soon after to awaken at five. My, my. We're all over the clock. Still, wide awake and so took my time getting ready to head out to breakfast, the sky clear, the sun getting ready to rise as I was walking (and wiping my eyes) on the way to breakfast, arriving just before seven to find the restaurant open. Awakening at five or no, I'd say a decent start to the day.

The chicken apple sausage, eggs over medium, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, the chicken apple sausage because I remembered they had such a thing and I hadn't had it in a while. Read the papers, finishing by eight-thirty or so, and walked back home under a bright sun, the temperature much warmer. Certainly felt much warmer, the head in its bubble, the sinus-upper palate aching a bit, the head in what I'd term its not unusual fog.

Which is supposed to mean?

The vision fine, no dry mouth or other indicators, just, you know, feeling a bit slow, a bit stupid, in a kind of bubble. Someone asks me a question and I can answer without trouble, so I look and sound not out of sorts, but this bubble thing seems to be with us now for the rest of whatever. Might become depressing if I let it. Might.

Later. I did head to the bus stop thinking maybe a trip downtown or just over to the construction sites on Webster and 23rd, but missed the bus by less than a minute. It just drove right on by. Felt good getting outside, the sun bright, warm enough, all bundled up, but decided to return to the apartment and rethink what to do next. Felt good, though, and noted it on the breakfast list. Chicken-apple sausage: so far, so good.

Watched two more episodes of Narcos - Mexico, a series I'd started after reading some of the news critiques. Good series, but doesn't make me want to visit Mexico any time in this life. No thought to go out again. Been too many local places too many times and those places I haven't visited in a while seem to be hiding behind a psychological wall. Don't want to mess with any psychological walls.

Evening. Watched some television, went to bed at eight-thirty, turned the lights out by nine-thirty, we'll see if we awaken at five in the damned morning again.