Reset Forty-Nine, Day Two Hundred Ninety-Three

I just ate Thursday's dinner at six o'clock Friday morning. While fixing it I put on a pan of water to boil then forgot about it and did something else, and when I got back the pan had boiled dry and was stinking. How have I gotten so incredibly stupid so fast? It seems once your brain starts that downhill slide there's no way to put on the brakes, and you might as well get used to the idea of crashing and burning.

Tomorrow is to be the first of a whole string of bright sunny days with highs in the seventies, and that means today is the last of the days with highs in the sixties, but it's going to be 69, so a miss is as good as a mile. I intend to start it with a cup of mullein leaf tea and a nap, and I hope there won't be any noise today. Yesterday I no sooner got under the covers than a guy with a leaf blower started cleaning the parking lot by firing up his machine right under my window. I have suppressed any memory of what happened after that, but I fear to check the flower beds for freshly turned earth. If the police come knocking at my door I'll just pretend that I'm senile. It won't be much of a pretense.