Friday. A somewhat uneven night's sleep, but awakening at six to get up and head out the door on another overcast, soon to be sunny morning, the temperature good. Arrived just before seven to find the restaurant open and so settled in with the papers.

The single pork chop, eggs over medium, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, finishing up by a quarter to nine. A haircut appointment later at ten-thirty and so thinking best to get home and post yesterday's entry (yesterday's unfinished entry) before I was due to set out. The usual pictures, whatever they're doing up above the sidewalk below my apartment still not clear from the look of it and so a picture.

The usual selfie in the lobby, up to post yesterday's entry and then process today's pictures before setting out for the appointment at ten-fifteen, arriving with five minutes to spare.

Later. Home from the haircut to essentially spend the day with the tablet and the usual news programs. Again. Nice outside, a high of seventy-five from the look of it, knew the walk to the barber shop really didn't count for enough additional exercise, but the tired in the morning became reasonably clear headed in the afternoon and that's been it.

Evening. Checked out a 1933 black and white Philo Vance detective movie on Public Television starring William Powell. Hmm. OK, 1933, different age, wouldn't have compared with a movie shot today with a smart phone. Stating the obvious. Bailed and went to bed, the lungs still occasionally demanding a cough, but it's much better than when they were acting up these weeks past.

This seems a bit fragmented.

I'm a bit fragmented, fragmented now for at least the last year. Or more. I'll just have to sue myself I guess.