Sunday. Lights out before nine, but not really getting to sleep until much later. At least I was thinking so, lying there, noting the bedside clock jump ahead every time I managed to look an hour or so at a time. Whatever. Awoke at five minutes to six to get up and drive to breakfast, the restaurant dark again before seven, but the dining area door having been left open by a kitchen worker who was preparing for breakfast in the back. OK, turn on the lights and settle in with the papers on an overcast morning, the weather people saying it will be cooler today.

Tried what they call their Jumbo Scramble with country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee, not quite finishing the scramble. I still haven't gotten rid of all my childhood food phobias. Some, but not all anyway.

Finished up after nine, managing again to skip going by the supermarket on the way home, arriving to take the selfie in the lobby before settling down with yesterday's entry to prepare it for posting.

A routine you've described over and over again for thousands of times.

A never ending attempt to probe the idea there's life after breakfast.

Later. A walk to the ATM on Lakeshore, a good thirty minute walk to get some outside exercise for the day, to then settle in to watch the 3M Open golf tournament on television. Six people are tied for first at the moment and Lord knows how many more are tied one stroke behind.

And this has you excited?

Well, it seems to have the announcers pumped.

Later still. OK, that was one hell of a finish, certainly better than I've ever seen from in front of a television screen. Got me pumped enough to get out the door, walk to the 7-11 look-alike and pick up a package of spicy Doritos, a can of bean dip and a box of Good & Plenty to bring home and eat half of them for dinner. Haven't done that now in a few months. Comfort food for a Sunday afternoon.

Evening. Watched an episode of a Swedish series Beck – Buried Alive at six, realizing I'd seen it before. At least I recognized various scenes, what was going to happen, throughout. Can't be all that long ago I've seen the thing, yet the memory was obviously cloudy. Ah, well. Watched some of the Danish Those Who Kill – Episode 7 that followed at eight, but bailed after half an hour. Tired. Time for bed. Time for bed seems to come along more and more often.