Reset Forty-Nine, Day Three Hundred Thirteen

When Tuesday afternoon came along all I wanted to do was go lie on a beach, and there is no beach around here. Some people, I've heard, make do with the riverbank or a "beach" at one of the reservoir lakes, but to me it's only a beach if I can hear the surf crashing. I endured the sultry afternoon for a while, but eventually crashed and slept until almost two o'clock this morning. As I hadn't eaten dinner Tuesday and didn't want to eat my breakfast donut so early I finally stuck a French bread pizza in the oven, and ate that with a bottle of beer, and now I've got a headache. I think I will try to sleep some more. At least it won't be quite so balmy today, and there could be rain showers this evening. The forecast has firmed up and says there is a 79% chance of rain Thursday. I feel temporarily better for that. Still, the first thing to cross my mind when I wake up is catastrophe. Such thoughts are probably just a symptom of terminal aging. If you die before the catastrophe comes, you win.