Reset Forty-Nine, Day Thirty-Seven

Criminy Dutch, it's after five o'clock Friday morning and I still haven't made Thursday dinner! It isn't even absent mindedness, as I've thought about doing it several times, it's just sheer scatterbrainery. But then I did spend a full eight hours in bed Thursday, though not all of it sleeping since I kept getting woken up by various aches, pains, and sundry discomforts.

Poor sleep meant an evening nap, even though I'd not gotten up until four o'clock in the afternoon, but that evening nap went pretty much the same way the day in bed had, and I got up at two o'clock in the morning, a time also known in California's diners as bar dawn, as that is when the bars close and a big rush of drunken customers arrives. If I'd been able to get out to a diner I'd have gotten some breakfast to make up for the dinner I'd not eaten. But I don't, so all I've done is sit here putzing about on the computer and thinking I'm hungry, I ought to fix something to eat. Because I've become a blithering idiot in my old age.

Crap. I think I'll just crack open a beer and eat some chips before the sun comes up. It's going to be a scorcher, at 103 degrees. Hotter days to follow. How can I die quietly in my sleep if it's too hot to sleep? A