Reset Fifty, Day Fifty-Eight

If days keep going by like this I'll lose all track of them. I recall waking at Saturday's dusk and thinking it was Sunday morning, but Hopper was nowhere to be found among the muddy furnishings of my brain. The blinds covering the window slowly drained of their light, and then I knew the time of day, but the day itself remained a mystery until I looked at a calendar.

How different it was when I woke this morning, the actual Sunday light leaking through and me knowing when and where I was. So rare anymore, to have such certainty. I actually felt, if not smart, at least not comatose. Since then I've let the hours run by and barely noticed until realizing I had an appointment to keep. No, not with death. With LiveJournal. Oh, it's finally actually Sunday, and I'm not surprised. Just a bit sad that there's not a Sunday paper anymore. But at least there's this:

( Sunday Verse )