I'd forgotten it was Thursday, last night, and there'd be a new Elementary episode starting at ten and so, after leafing through The New Yorker in bed, I got up again and watched it, getting to bed then at eleven. Hmm. We say “hmm” around here more often than not.

Up with the alarm somewhat more grudgingly than usual, off to breakfast forgetting to take the morning prescriptions. No big deal, but I'm not sure why that should have happened. The routine is the routine, it doesn't vary from bed to breakfast and back, how'd I forget? Again, no big deal, but a mental note (in the mental notebook kept up on the notebook shelf by the frontal lobe).

OK, in no condition to properly edit yesterday's entry when I returned, so a nap, an hour's nap to get up and look at yesterday's entry again and struggle through, finally posting well after ten. What to do then?

A bus downtown for no reason other than staying inside wasn't an option, another part of the routine: get outside the apartment once the journal has been posted. Off the bus at Latham Square thinking I was hungry, maybe something at Genji, the Japanese restaurant, although the thought of a chicken salad didn't click. On to the City Center. What to eat? Ah! The soup and salad place across from the federal building.

Sat inside at a window seat and ate their turkey chili (small), a Caesar salad (small) and a piece of French bread with butter. Good. Got it down with relish. Satisfying. Sitting there I'd been watching two young women outside stopping people as they passed to sign (what I assume was) a petition of some kind, neither of them seeming to be having much luck. Lots of explanation and talking, lots of rejection. I took the picture, remembering I was there with a camera and taking pictures was the plan.

Still, this was continuing to be a more than funky morning, the head stuffed up, the day not really started. Thoughts of was I depressed, was I this, was I that? A slow day, my man, no need to become upset.

A walk to the bagel shop where I had a small cup of coffee out at a table, taking a second picture of the reflection in the window opposite. OK, two pictures, the day has begun. Over to the bus stop, another picture with reflection in a window. Perhaps we were shifting gears, coming up for air, the head starting to feel right?

Home now, as mentioned, feeling ever more like a human being. The head is clearer, the nose is clearer, the eyes are brighter (he said). The slow start of a cold motor with ots head and sinuses stuffed up.

Later. Guitar, a nap; more guitar, a nap. Pretty exciting stuff for a late afternoon with the news droning on in the background, even during the naps. Not much in the way of naps, but naps. Good.

Evening. There are indeed a couple of things usually worth watching on Friday nights, the first of which I hate to admit to watching, so I won't. The first two episodes of the Sherlock Holmes series starring Benedict Cumberbatch begin at eight, both from the first season, both I'm assuming I've seen before, so we may well get to bed early this evening.

As you said last night.

Whatever funkiness from the morning is now gone, the guitar practice is complete and I've checked all the various possibilities for this evening's entertainment. We are straight. We are aware. I say we're getting to bed early and about this there's no doubt!