rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Reset Eleven, Day Twenty

Having sweltered through another awful summer day, I'm about ready to try to get some sleep. If I had a reclining chaise lounge and a mosquito net I would try sleeping in the back yard, as it is nearly balmy out there now and there would be no periodic draft from the air conditioner. Plus the chirping of the crickets is quite pleasant. But then outside there is always the chance of some noisy late night drunk stirring up a ruckus along the bike path, or even of a quiet, polite passerby setting off a spate of barking from the territorial dog who lives on the other side of it. I'm probably better off indoors, despite the unpleasant drafts.

A trip to the store in the next couple of days is probably out, and I haven't even bothered to check this week's ads. I doubt I'll get to Grocery Outlet either, but I can live without donuts for a few more days. I've still got a couple of packages of cookies which will do for breakfasts. There is only one serving of orange juice remaining, too, but I can substitute the mixture of grapefruit juice and lemonade I used la time I ran out. The thing I'm most worried about is getting those bills mailed. It would be very annoying to have to keep running down the driveway to see if the mail carrier is coming and make sure he picks them up.

All day Sunday I had things pop into my head that I would like to write about, but now that I'm here I can't remember any of them. No, not even a hint of a memory. And it's not just Sunday, but just about every day, except those when I am so muddled that I can't even find ideas. Perhaps I should simply vanish into a fantasy world entirely, since I don't seem able to get a firm grip on this one anymore. And my perception of this one is probably more fantasy than not itself, anyway. I wish some of the parts of it I know are not fantasy were.

So woebegone. Seriously, woe, begone.... Well, that didn't work. So.

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