Reset Forty-Eight, Day Three

Thursday's three sleeps added up to about ten hours, which was probably about right following the excitements of the previous days. The final segment, which ended about two o'clock this morning, let a fragmentary dream image of a computer screen showing a warning of some sort then going blank. Not surprising. I was also persistently sad Thursday, despite having made a highly successful sandwich for dinner (meaning it didn't fall apart as I was eating it, which my sandwiches are prone to do.) A few days ago I was inexplicably amused, and now inexplicably sad, so I'd say my emotional states have come unglued and no longer reflect whatever is actually going on around me. Interesting, but I don't feel like delving into it. I'm too sad for delving.

Forecast is still saying 71 degrees on Sunday. It's extravagant, but at least I'll be able to have my windows open for a while to air out the apartment. Well, fume it out anyway, since the freeway is so close. Summer is better for airing out, as I can do it at night while the freeway is little used. But there is also a chance of some rain later this month and in early March. Well, if winter hasn't given up completely neither will I.

To help get me through, I'm relying on a bit of The Quintette du Hot Club de France, Stéphane Grappelli on violin and Django Reinhart on lead guitar.

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