Tuesday. Last night, as the night before, lights out early to sleep straight through until just before six, a good night's rest. I'd think.

Another clear morning to walk to breakfast, the temperature just fine in a long sleeve shirt and winter jacket, the almond trees now seriously into shedding their white flowers, the sidewalks covered. Nice, actually. A nice walk, a good day in the making.

More of your rah! rah! routine to get your ass in gear?

Lay a little rubber. Can't hurt.

Later. A bus to Latham Square to take pictures as they were pouring more cement. Lots of activity and equipment, although I suspect there's still some time left before they'll be finished. The return bus back to the apartment, no desire to have lunch at the City Center or anywhere else. Still, a nice trip on a t-shirt temperature day. No complaints.

And I did follow through with the health insurance. And it's done, just not to my liking. My fault, I was the one who delayed and didn't ask the right questions, but more inconvenient than anything more serious. I don't think.

Later still. Processed the Latham Square photographs, spent some time watching this and that on the tablet, set out down the way to have a bagel with cream cheese with coffee at the café next to the exercise club, back to see if a bagel and cream cheese was a good idea. An odd balancing of things I'm willing to eat. I can get the head around a bagel with cream cheese, but it takes work. None of the other options were even in the running, but such is (the current) life.

Evening. Not much on television. Checked out Charlie Rose for a minute or two, an hour long interview with the Secretary of Defense. Don't need to hear another well rehearsed set of managed information designed to keep we of the unwashed content.

Now, now.

I actually wouldn't have been able to tell you the name of the Secretary of Defense (Ash Carter) before listening to the intro. Recently appointed is the thought, but not something I care enough about to look up. Anyway, whatever the mood, we weren't up for an hour with the Secretary of Defense.

A slow day, a good day. Another temperature record for Oakland, eighty-two degrees. Or was that yesterday? We are obviously ready to turn out the lights and sleep.