Thursday. Lights out again by ten to awaken just after six on a rainy morning, no thought to other than drive to breakfast. A fair number of cars, but not all that many people out walking, as you'd expect, with just three of us having breakfast. The newspapers were focused on the Ghost Ship fire and Trump. Trump! Trump! Trump!
And you're not?
I'm reading as much as anyone about his appointments. I wouldn't say he's from out of left field. He gives me more a sense he's come in from Mars and inordinately talented in hiding the fact.
A drive home to turn on the heat and focus on editing my contribution to Mindwarp. A day without sun is a good day to get it done. See if I can still put together something reasonably tight instead of just bitching about my continuing failure to do it here.
Later. Rain straight through the afternoon. The package I was expecting finally arrived, three picture frames to be used with three I have on hand to replace the prints Scotch taped to the wall in the computer area. Hard to put that off now although, as mentioned, the three I have on hand already contain photographs. What three photographs to add to them? More problematic than you'd think.
I haven't done much other than to watch television and finish watching the last episode of a series on the tablet. A little guitar, but too little to mention unless I really want to stretch it. And yes, I managed to avoid the Mindwarp revision. Need to get to that, but so far telling myself I need to do it hasn't gotten it done. No surprises here.
Evening. Same old, same old. Started watching an episode of Vera at eight, realizing from the first scene I'd seen it before. Or, more accurately started watching it before, but bailed for the same reason as I was having trouble making out what they were saying through their accents. Clarity of my television sound system, my ears or their accents? A little of each?