Friday To sleep not long after ten to awaken at five forty-five without the aching chest. Up to walk to breakfast under clearing skies and a soon to be sunny morning, the weather people saying it will get up into the seventies later. Arrived a bit early to find them in the middle of putting the patio tables in place and so waited briefly before settling in with the papers.

The plain waffle with sliced bananas and strawberries, fruit cup and coffee because we're watching our weight and because that's what appealed. Finished up not long after nine, having by then been sitting under a bright sun for a good hour, and so set out hoping it wasn't going to be too warm walking home in the black jacket I'd settled on wearing without thinking before setting out.

Pictures of more Lime scooters scattered in the same places on the sidewalk again, up the hill to take the selfie in the lobby before disconnecting the power to the battery charger unit and bringing it with me upstairs to the apartment before starting with all this.

Later. The writing so far has been muddled and much edited, otherwise the afternoon has gone well. Sad to hear Ruth Bader Ginsberg (The Notorious RBG) has died at the age of eighty-seven which means Trump will appoint her replacement on the Supreme Court. I'd say 2020 has become a bloated joke on our planet if it didn't hurt so much to laugh.

Nobody's laughing.

Indeed. And 2020 evidently has more in store.

Evening. Watched the beginning of Inspector Morse at eight, bailed soon after and went to bed.