"Thursday Not a bad night. To sleep not all that long after ten to awaken briefly just before five, the chest not aching, to blink and awaken then at six-fifty, get up and head out to drive to the Lakeshore ATM and then on to breakfast, parking right in front of the restaurant and finding my table waiting. The sky is overcast, fog, no sign of smoke and so settled in with the papers, all to the good.
The two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee again, finishing up just after nine to walk to the car and drive straight home, reconnect the battery charger, take the selfie in the lobby and settle in at the computer to finish and post yesterday's entry. So good again.
I managed to talk myself (or just override my objections) into doing the laundry and so we did. Start. Life here in the fast lane again.
Later. The car has been charging through the entire afternoon and doesn't seem close to being finished, checking it now and again as I was getting the laundry done. The laundry took a while, but now it's all folded and done. Yes, tired during all this, but it seems, if I push a little bit, it doesn't really make all that much difference, it just gets done.
Evening. Watched an episode of Vera that started at eight, bailed well after nine when learning who'd done it. Remembered just a few scenes when they played, but had no idea of what was going to happen or how it was going to turn out. A similar experience with the second season of a series I'd started recently. Knew I'd seen the first season, but had no idea what they were referring to when characters in the second season made reference to things that had transpired in the first. Is the memory getting worse? When it comes to plot lines I suspect that may be true.
Another lights out by ten to listen to the six minute ten o'clock NPR news, to sleep whenever.