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rejectomorph

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The Unbearable Beingness of Light [May. 28th, 2018|10:54 pm]
rejectomorph
As expected, bright, hot Memorial Day was filled with the smell of burning flesh. While I didn't hear any loud parties going on in the neighborhood, I could smell the barbecues from noon onward. That has passed away as the evening has cooled, and now the air smells more of dry grass, and of damp in my yard as I have watered the plants. A few jasmine blossoms have opened, but not enough to scent the air yet. I have to get right up to them to smell them.

A mosquito celebrated the holiday by drawing blood from my forehead, and it itches. Blood and burning flesh: the perfect Memorial Day combination. Now all we need is a car crash. Maybe when the drunken revelers start leaving the parties we'll get one. Probably not on my block, though, as it has been very quiet here all day, except for the bumble bee that was loudly hanging around my back porch for a while this afternoon.

I will probably put out the wheelie bins tonight, even though I'm not sure if Memorial Day is one of the holidays that now delays trash pickup for one day. Better safe than stuck with full bins for another week. Then I will decide on something to eat for my belated dinner. It is belated because I did some split shift sleeping again, and didn't get around to eating lunch (lots of sourdough toast with cream cheese) until pretty late this afternoon.

Once again I forgot about doing my laundry until it was too late in the afternoon to give it time to dry outdoors. I'll try to remember to do it tomorrow. Maybe I should put the TV remote and the computer mouse in socks as a reminder. But then I'd have to remember to do that tonight, after I'm done using them, and I'm doubtful that I will. Sic transit memoria.
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