rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


There was a decent sunset this evening thanks to some lingering clouds. They aren't expected to linger tomorrow, so that might be the last sunset for sometime. I'm glad I woke from my unintended nap soon enough to see it. As for the future consequences of the unintended nap, I'm not optimistic. I have an appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow afternoon, and I might be slept out for the next ten hours. I certainly don't feel sleepy right now. I'll probably feel sleepy when it heats up tomorrow, and I hope I can wake up early enough to get ready for the appointment without rushing. Rushing promotes anxiety, and anxiety makes the chiropractic adjustments more difficult.

The jasmine doesn't smell as strong tonight. It can't be from cold, because cold is just a dim memory. It's barely even cool outside right now, and I expect it will take all night to get the house cool. Even at that, it's not really hot enough in here to make me sleepy again. Just uncomfortable. Because of the long nap I still haven't gotten the wheelie bins out for tomorrow's trash pickup, nor have I had dinner, and I just remembered that I have dry stuff in the dryer wet stuff in the washing machine that needs to be moved to the dryer. Plus there are dirty dishes I need to do before I can fix dinner. At this rate I'll be busy past midnight.

I really need to get organized. I can't blame the holiday because I forgot there was one. Happy belated Whatever It Was Day.

  • Reset Forty-Nine, Day Seven

    Monday I remembered I had an artichoke, so I cooked it and ate it instead of dinner. It was very tasty, what with all the butter I put on it, and I…

  • Reset Forty-Nine, Day Six

    Sunday got away, as Sundays are wont to do, and I had some naps and some sore feet and some flights of fancy and, eventually, some leftover chili.…

  • Reset Forty-Nine, Day Five

    There are big empty spots in my brain where stuff disappears, never to be found again. It ought to be comparable to other things, but what they might…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.