rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Reset Thirty-Four, Day Six

Monday was another donut day, meaning not that I ate a donut (though I did) but that there was a big hole in the middle of it where I slept. What happened after that is mostly vague, as I wasn't paying attention to myself. I was surely quite boring. There is an impression of toast with cream cheese, and later some crackers and cheese and beer, and I might have eaten yet another donut after forgetting whether or not I'd eaten one earlier. My stomach feels like there are two donuts in it, a well as all that other stuff.

Oh, and I took the wheelie bin out to the street, and retrieved a magazine from the mailbox. I don't remember reading any of the magazine, though I might have. Then I looked on Google maps for a place that does not appear to exist anymore. I also saw a menu from a restaurant in 1941, and realized that if I could time travel for meals I could eat very well indeed on my current income, even if I left lavish tips. But then how would I get 1941 money with my 2021 debit card? I guess figuring out how to time travel would me more trouble than it was worth. That's probably why nobody has done it.

Seriously, the whole damned night has been like this. I do believe I've lost touch with reality. Whatever that is. I think I'll eat some popcorn and try to go to sleep. But I wish I had a stack of pancakes with fresh butter and real maple syrup from 1941 for 25 cents.

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Seven

    It took quite a while to get to sleep Monday morning, but it was still overcast, so the light leaking around and through the blinds wasn't too bad.…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Six

    The rain was long delayed Sunday, clouds forming only gradually in the afternoon sky, and the first drops falling as dusk arrived. It has been mostly…

  • Reset Thirty-Five, Day Five

    Days seem shorter once they are over than they do when they lie ahead. When I woke up Saturday afternoon there were at least three hours o daylight…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.