There was an actual cooked dinner again Wednesday night, and although making it was tiring, it was not utterly exhausting. I even got the dishes washed afterwards. I hope I can maintain the levels of energy needed to keep cooking for a few more nights. I need to make a dent in the supplies that are cramming the refrigerator. Right now stuff is too hard to reach. The beer even has a loaf of bread perched on top of it. Actually I'd make some cinnamon toast for a snack tonight, but I forgot to set out a cube of butter, and hard butter is a bother to spread.
My plans for the future haven't changed since yesterday, meaning there still are none. One thing I ought to be doing is checking the department store web sites for clearance sales. Last year I missed them all, and I was hoping to pick up a few items this year, but I keep forgetting until right around bedtime. Online shopping is something I need to provide a big block of time for. It always takes longer than I expect, and the more tired I get the more dumb things I'm likely to do. Shopping has that in common with life.
I didn't finish the Rushdie book last night after all. Maybe I'll do it tonight. Something about reading actual books relaxes me so much that I end up falling asleep too soon, even when the book is very interesting. It didn't used to be that way, but then I didn't used to be this old. And this is pretty damned old.
