rejectomorph | Reset Forty-Seven, Day Thirty-Two

Let the record show that I spent the penultimate day of 2022 doing the same things I've been doing for months: sleeping, mis-eating, and looking at Idernet. One oddity is that I partly recall two dreams, one of which involved seeing a big chunk of Pasadena, a place I haven't been in over 36 years, vacant from an urban renewal project, doubly absurd since Pasadena, indeed all of California, is done with urban renewal, which has been abolished statewide. In the other dream I found myself offending a Chinese mob boss, an event which is about as likely (and equally distressing) as myriad angels flying out of Donald Trump's butt. I take these dreams to be evidence that I have finally left my senses utterly behind. But then being able to remember so much of two dreams is a good thing, right? A definite improvement!

Friday also brought some nice rain, which eased up long enough for me to go out and check the mail box, which was empty, not surprisingly (actually another good thing, since anything in it would have gotten wet.) On the down side, both my stomach and my feet have been hurting a lot, and my neck is threatening to join them. Still it looks very much as though I'll survive until 2023, though whether I'll make it to my birthday later this month is still up in the air. Also up in the air, rain clouds, which are expected to unloose more wetness for New Year's Eve Day. I've got a bowl of pricey deli chili for dinner tonight, if my stomach will allow it. I wish I'd saved a fresh tomato to go with it, and had remembered to buy some tortillas. But I do have beer. In fact I have a New Year Guinness. So all is not lost. Yet.