Monday. Lights out at eight-thirty to go right to sleep, awakening then at just before six. I was really tired yesterday and it seems to have at least led to a pretty decent night's rest. Up to walk to breakfast, the air quite cool but warm in a winter coat, to arrive and have the oatmeal, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast. So far, so good. I'd say clear headed, but I'm not sure what “clear headed” means anymore.

The walk home, still carrying the small Nikon V 1 camera under the coat when I came upon this. Approaching, it looked almost as if it were parked in the middle of Grand at the Highway 580 entrance. Crossing the street showed where it had been hit.

Two lanes turn left to the freeway entrance at the light off Grand. Had the car in the inner turn only lane tried to go straight, hitting this car driving in the optional turn left or go straight lane? Didn't see the car that had caused the damage and didn't stay to find out what had happened. Felt a little ghoulish taking pictures as it was.

Clear sky, sun, they're saying a high of eighty later. Nice. Again, unless this “tired” business shows its head again, we might try something radical later. Go outside. Take a camera. The idea was less off-putting when I thought of it.

We do go on and on.

This “I don't want to go out with the camera in hand” business seems to well up from somewhere inside the body rather than the mind. No logic to it, but it does seem to ease off, if slowly. We'll see. Again, it gives you sympathy for what a soldier suffering from PSTD must go through, even if the intensity of mine is so very much less.

Live and learn.

Wouldn't have minded avoiding learning this particular shit.

Later. In looking at the damaged car in the series of photographs I'd taken this morning, I realized it was a Tesla Model S. Teslas aren't uncommon in the area, but other than noting Elements when I see one, I really can't tell all that many brands or models from one another anymore unless I see a familiar logo or written on the car.

Evening. None of the “tired” business, at least. Accomplished diddly-squat through the afternoon, watching the usual television news programs and finishing a movie I'd started on the tablet. Checked outCharlie Rose at eight to no avail, eavesdropped on Father Brown to even less avail. Thus it goes on a Monday I guess.