Thursday. Lights out before ten to awaken at six-oh-five and get up and get ready to walk to breakfast while listening to Democracy Now! and their reporting on the arrest of Julian Assange after Ecuador caved in to U.S. pressure and gave him up. OK, out the door on an overcast, but relatively warm morning, to arrive at the restaurant to find it open and the day underway.
The two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, finishing at twenty minutes to nine and set out for home, the sky still overcast, but again, warmer than in the recent past. Another selfie, of course, before setting down with yesterday's entry and finally just throwing up my hands, giving up and not even holding my nose as I was posting.
You go on and on about this without making a single change.
Habit, habit, habit. Comfortable habit.
Later. A bus to Broadway and then on to the lab to get another Protime blood thinner test, thinking I'd just wait for a Broadway bus instead of walking, but decided I was OK with getting off at the apartment house construction sites stop to take pictures and then walk instead of ride.
The usual pictures at 23rd and Valdez doing the take the camera out of the backpack and then zip it right back inside when I was finished. I'm getting less paranoid over time in doing this. Happy about that.
Arrived at the lab to find no one was waiting in line and so got the blood drawn and, hungry, had a yogurt parfait with coffee at a table out in front of the lab building café. So far, so good. Tired, but good.
A walk opposite the apartment house construction site on Hawthorne to Broadway and then to Grand, snapping another picture of the construction site at 27th, arriving at Grand to see the bus roll by in the distance. Such is life. Sat and waited. Tired. No desire for more walking. Waited fifteen minutes for another bus. Got home to lie down for an hour with the tablet. Restful, watching this and that on the tablet.
Evening. Watched the Vera episode at eight. Not bad. An odd plot that worked when it was all pulled together at the end, something a little different. To bed by nine-thirty, lights out after listening to the news at ten.