Displaced

When the days get longer it gets easier to lose track of time. Tonight the wheelie bins have to go out, and I totally forgot about it until a few minutes ago. I also forgot to feed the feral cats, and when I went out to do it Portia came into my room and tried to post an entry to the journal herself. She walked across the keyboard and wrote something that made no sense. I ought to have posted it just to see if anybody could tell that it wasn't one of my regular entries.

The chance of rain Tuesday has been reduced, but the chances later in the week and early next week have been increased. There's just too much drama with the weather this time of year. I sometimes wish I lived in Hawaii where it rains for half an hour every afternoon and there is rarely a surprise. I'd probably get bored with it after a while, though it would still be nice to have the sky doo all the watering for me.

I have to get those wheelie bins out, and then I have to fix some dinner, and then I'm pretty sure I have to do something else but I've forgotten what it was. I hope I remember what it is before I end up falling asleep on the couch again. I'd surely wake up at three A.M. remembering it then, and be unable to get back to sleep. Tomorrow I have to go get the beer the store was out of on Sunday, and I want to be rested for the trip. I hate shopping when I'm short of sleep, even if I know what I'm after and it's only one item.

Oy, look at that crap. Portia's entry was better.