Friday. To sleep soon enough last night to awaken at five-thirty, too early, but early enough to listen to the last half of Rising Up With Sonali before taking the blood pressure, finding it approaching the problematic range and so taking the blood pressure med before heading back to bed to listen to Democracy Now! before heading out to drive to breakfast under clear skies. Should have walked, of course, to get the exercise, but it's Christmas Eve and we've decided we're allowed. Parked by the 7-11 store, walked across Grand and entered the restaurant indoor dining area, turning on the lights and settling in with the morning papers.

The avocado and mushroom omelet, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee, finishing up by nine to walk back to the car and drive home under a bright sun, taking the selfie in the lobby, taking the blood pressure again (about the same) and settling in here at the computer.

Later. Messed with Facebook, watched the half hour news broadcast at twelve, lied down to listen to the radio and that's pretty much been the afternoon. I don't ask myself if all this repetition is a symptom of COVID isolation or not, but I'm sure it must be having an effect.

Evening. Don't remember what happened last night as I'm writing this on Sunday morning having given up on the journal over Christmas. Not a bad Christmas Eve, not a bad Christmas Day, just, you know, drifting along feeling more than a bit fuzzy headed.