rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Reset Fourteen, Day Eighteen.

Not feeling very well again Tuesday, I just vegged all day. How does that differ from other recent days? Not at all, sad to say. But I did remember to eat something. I found the remains of a loaf of old bread under a bag atop the refrigerator. It was quite stale, but being mass-produced commercial bread it was loaded with preservatives and thus not moldy. I made a pretty tasty grilled cheese sandwich with two of the three slices in that package. It doesn't seem to matter how stale bread is, as long as it isn't moldy you can grill it and it turns out okay. I probably could have made French toast with it instead, but that would have been way too much bother. Grilled cheese was fine. I might buy more of that kind of bread, as it was eighteen days old and still edible.

The new supermarket ads will be on the Internets later today, and I intend to get right on them. I've said this before and then totally forgotten to do it, but what I intend to do tonight is have a tab with one of the web sites in my browser when I shut it down, and it will be there next time I open the browser. This is what I've been reduced to by my failing memory. A machine has to remember stuff for me. I figure this will work until I forget how to work the machine. By that time they should be hauling me off to the Home for Senile Delinquents anyway. I hope they have good grilled cheese there. It will be a delightful new experience for me every time they serve it, since I will never remember having had it before.

Right now I'm having a late night snack of Kalamata olives. The brand name is Erato. Erato was one of the nine muses of Greek mythology, specifically the muse of erotic poetry and mime. Erotic poetry and mime are not two things I'd be inclined to think of together, but the ancient Greeks apparently saw some connection between them. Every time I'm tempted to imagine that it might have been nice to live in ancient Greece, I remember Erato and am grateful that I've never envisioned the likes of Marcel Marceau while reading an erotic poem, or lived in any place where that was likely to occur with any significant frequency to any of my neighbors.

Today and Thursday are the last warm days in the forecast. They will be followed by a significant drop in high temperatures, and quite a few upcoming chilly days are showing some chance of rain. Such an abrupt change of seasons is rare here. It's most often a more gradual process. But from Thursday to Friday the high will drop by twenty degrees, and the nocturnal low by ten, and then both highs and lows will remain low for at least the next ten days. It's going to be weird. Friday still might have some rain, but more likely we'll have to wait until mid-November at the earliest. We might get rain about the time we get the election results, or the civil war, whichever comes first.

It looks like the end of daylight time didn't fully reset my body clock. I'm still staying up way too late. I hope this doesn't interfere with my banking and shopping trip. That would be sucky for sure. I'm going to crawl under the covers right now.
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