Saturday. An uneven sleep that started early enough, but up two or three times during the night to take a leak to then awaken for good at six-thirty. OK, up and out the door to drive to breakfast, the idea being to drive directly from the restaurant to the dentist's appointment at eight-thirty when I was finished, leaving myself thirty minutes for the trip, but turning chicken and setting out even earlier to arrive at twenty-five minutes to nine, twenty-five minutes early. Which is that not unusual for me as I can never tell how good or bad the traffic might be and I've always had a phobia about being late, but this time the hygienist was running twenty minutes late too adding her twenty to my twenty-five. At least is was an easy drive.

The usual feelings of dread last night as I was thinking of driving this morning. Not a particularly strong sense of dread, but dread none the less, and it was gone as I sat there having a hamburger patty, eggs over medium, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast.

You do go on about breakfast.

We are limited in our choice of novel experiences in the mornings. Perhaps for the best.

The usual couple of pictures heading to the car, the trip to the dentist's office in Albany a breeze, the teeth in good shape (if aching a bit) after cleaning, home now to see what's up on a Saturday. If our history is any indication, some television, some tablet and maybe a bath if we get ambitious.

Evening. To bed early after setting the bedroom clock and watch an hour ahead for this morning's uncomfortable switch onto daylight savings.