Eight
Wednesday. Lights out before ten to awaken at five minutes to six. Success! Let's hope we've adjusted to this Daylight Savings business. Overcast, but warm, they're saying no rain until this coming Monday and so a comfortable walk to have the oatmeal, toast fruit cup and coffee for breakfast. Similarly started with the full prescribed dose of pain meds this morning, taking no chances.
Similarly overcast on the walk home, seemingly fewer people on the sidewalks, at least when and where I was walking. Nothing on the schedule for the day, but we're in the mood for something to happen.
You're always in the mood for something to happen.
Well, on days when the head is screwed on straight. Relatively straight.
Later. A walk finally to the bus stop, thinking I'd go to Jack London Square, arriving four minutes before the bus was due. But the bus had arrived six or so minutes early and so I set out on a walk that ended up at the morning restaurant. I'd been thinking of taking the next bus, due twenty minutes later, but it didn't come at all.
Had a bun and coffee, felt not bad, but not all that good either and so a bus home to spend the rest of the day (I'm guessing) futzing around with the usual television shows and maybe a little time on the guitar. It's sixty-seven degrees out there today, some fifteen degrees lower than it was yesterday, but still more than comfortable.
Finished the tax return. Not sure what caused me to do that, but it's now ready to be filed. No taxes to be returned, but then none needing to be paid. Life is indeed a little different when you're retired.
Evening. More television, an attempt or two to find something I wanted to watch on the tablet before again catching the first Charlie Rose interview at eight. Eight. Time for bed at eight.
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