Tuesday. To sleep in a relatively short time around ten to awaken at six-thirty after what I'm guessing was a good night's rest. Up to walk to breakfast thinking there were a few more people out and about. Not many, still empty compared to mornings before we entered shelter-in-place. Arrived by eight to enter the dining area, turn on the lights and settle in with the papers.

The two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee because I couldn't think of anything else to order, finishing up well after eight to walk home under relatively overcast skies taking pictures right and left of the usual flowers once I'd snapped a picture of The Alley's sign, messing with the exposures without too much thought. Not out of the rut thinking to take a picture or two of anything else. Home to take the selfie and start on yesterday's entry, posting and then crashing on the bed.

Later. What to say for this day? Tired? Fried? Slow? All of the above? Didn't start on this until the next morning, mostly watched stuff on the tablet and avoided many of the various news broadcasts. Oh, and ate like a pig (piglet).

Evening. Unusually tired straight through the day. Lack of exercise? Lack of decent sleep, even though I thought last night's rest was better than most many I've had in the past?