My thoughts have not been stories or poems. They are mostly pointless frustrations. I distract myself with Internet and boring chores. I think about reading books, but lack the concentration. Things I'm out of or almost out of: donuts, milk, orange juice, popcorn, carrot juice, my favorite soups and ramen, plain sparkling water. Things I haven't had the focus to arrange: getting groceries, getting the bills into the mail. Things that are increasingly apparent: I'm not getting smarter with age, nor is my disposition improving.
Mostly cloudy days ahead, but rain likely only very late tonight and Friday. I'm sober at the moment, and wish I'd thought to get drunk. Now it's too late, as I have to sleep again.