But at least the high is supposed to get back down into the eighties tomorrow, and a couple of nights hence the lows ought to be back down to the fifties. The next high of ninety isn't until May 6. After that, Hell might break loose. It's too soon to tell.
Oh, woolgathering. It's after midnight now. Once again I've failed to eat dinner, and there is something that absolutely must be consumed, so I'm going to have to make it now. My fried brain and I will be glad when the temperatures go back down a bit. Heat isn't to blame for my mental deterioration, but it sure ain't helping a whole lot.
Just after midnight I went outside for a moment to see how the nocturnal cooling was going and I heard the mockingbird singing somewhere down the bike trail. I assume it's the same mockingbird who hangs around in the daytime. It's possible there's more than one, but I'd have no way of telling them apart, so I'm inclined to believe there's just the one. A fried brain likes to keep things simple.
And yikes, I just thought to look at my cellphone and the battery was down to 1% again. I got it plugged in just in time. I have to thank the ant who was crawling next to it for attracting my attention. I usually squash them, but this one gets to live— for now at least. I can't tell them apart either, so if I see that one again I won't recognize it, and it's doomed. Flee, little ant! The fried brain monster can't be trusted!