Friday. I did get to bed early last night, but early in the sense IS lay down between the comforter and the blanket in my clothes sans shoes to watch something on the tablet, but then turned out the light and went right to sleep. In my clothes until four in the morning when I awoke, lost the clothes and went back to sleep between the sheets until half past six. So a good night's sleep augmented, one assumes, by the three drinks I'd had in the very late afternoon. Don't feel any effects this morning, but experience tells us that's probably not right.
And so we go. Off to breakfast to feed the meter for the thirty minutes I was late, a good breakfast, back to glue yesterday's entry together before thinking of what we might do for the rest of the day. A Friday. Stuff worth photographing sometimes happens on a Friday, maybe, if we search, we can find something to draw us out. Might.
Later. A walk to the bus stop, setting out early to take a picture or two at the construction site, taking one or two shots (the two up top) before walking back to catch the bus, the bus due in two minutes. The bus passed as I approached the stop. They'll come late, they'll come on time, but usually you can count on the fact, if you're there at the time printed on their schedule, the bus won't have arrived.
Ah, well. Back to the apartment to process the few pictures I'd taken, then another trip to the stop arriving with two minutes to spare this time catching the bus downtown three minutes later. Probably shouldn't be shaving minutes when you have plenty of time but, as I think I've mentioned, I don't like standing in lines. Or at bus stops. More than about five minutes. Sometimes I can hold out for ten.
Lunch (a cinnamon bun and coffee) in the City Center out at the table in front of the bagel shop. No thought to do anything other than walk back to the apartment to get in my walk and maybe catch pictures at the construction site on the way. A fair amount of overcast, but quite warm as the sun appeared as I was walking home (wearing a sweater and a winter jacket) and so skipped any construction pictures. Maybe a nap. Maybe something else. Maybe a dose of the pain meds as the sinuses are acting up.
I did eventually get over to the construction site for the usual set of pictures. Nothing spectacular, I'm consistent at nothing spectacular, back to process them and then move more images to the new disk from DVD's. Progress. On a slow day progress is progress.
Evening. I realized right away I'd seen the New Tricks that started at seven. Interestingly I didn't remember the plot, but immediately remembered who'd done it. Not sure it matters, although I listened to about half of it while working on the computer.
I suspect I'll bail on the Dalziel and Pascoe that starts at eight, as I've had trouble warming to the characters every time I've tried in the past. Something about a death during an English fox hunt tonight. I'd skipped the Midsomer Murders that was about a death at a fox hunt last night. Maybe just go with tired and get a decent night's rest.
When have we heard that before?
Many, many, many times.