Saturday. Ran out of gas last night about nine, lights out by ten and to sleep soon enough, but awakening at five, then five-thirty and finally at six to get up and drive to breakfast on a rainy morning. Not a hard rain, but it had been raining on and off through the night and so I suspect we'll miss this, the first day of the Cherry Blossom Festival in San Francisco. They're saying less chance for rain tomorrow and so maybe we'll get lucky. The parade isn't until next weekend and so we're still far from losing this year's photographs. I hope.
You don't sound all that enthusiastic.
Later. A nap with a good solid hour and a half of sleep, the day starting to come together now that it's early afternoon. Not too much rain, hope it says something about the weather tomorrow. When's the last time I was in Japantown? BART and a bus. How hard can that be, wet or dry? Why am I even talking about this?
Later still. A slow afternoon. Still not much rain, enough for rain drops to be hanging from the overhead wires outside, but not enough to be able to see it coming down. Hope for tomorrow? Why not.
The sinus-upper palate feels like crap and so a second dose of the pain meds. And then two hours later a third dose. First time for that in some time. I guess it feels better, but I'm wondering why this just goes on and on? More doctors, I guess. Well, no. Just more bitching.
Evening. Nothing on television. Tried one or two police procedurals, but none of them held my interest. Watched another episode of Elementary from last season at five, remembering I wanted to watch it at five through the afternoon, but then forgetting and not turning it on until ten minutes after it had started. We're consistent in this sort of memory thing, at least.