I’ve been sleepy all day. Somehow managed not to fall into the traps I’ve succumbed to. Mostly.
I woke up after four really good hours of sleep, and instead of rolling over and continuing, I got up to call my parents, to let them know I’m coming over for a little while Sunday. My dad invited me to stay over for dinner. Ugh. I really want to. I just don’t feel safe enough, especially with these numbers up.
Then my mom told me she’s going to church Sunday. Nooooooo.
I don’t blame her. My mom has never, ever been a stay-home kind of person. And it’s been four months of staying home. Please, church, don’t do anything stupid, and keep my mom safe. ‘Cause geez.
Reid emailed me some questions about some crossword puzzle answers. I did my usual NYT puzzle first (16:30 for Saturday) then the LA Times puzzles at the Washington Post website. These are free, and just a notch below the NYT in quality (usually). I knew Reid does the LA Times puzzles, but didn’t know which one he got his questions from. So I worked backward from Saturday and finally found the puzzle in question: last Sunday.
A week’s worth of puzzles is straining, even for a puzzle-addicted person like me. My brain was mush. So I finished up breakfast and went back to bed.
I did okay: a couple of hours of good sleep. I got up, puttered around a bit, and went back for a couple more hours. See, these hours of sleep are okay. Purposeful. It’s the accidental sleep, the lying-on-the-bed-reading-and-dozing-off sleep that’s terrible. Doesn’t do anything for mind or body, and isn’t facilitated by the Darth Vader getup. I wake up dopey and just as sleepy as before I napped.
I watched the news and went to Taco Bell to bring home lunch-dinner. I was just itching for some fast food.
Breakfast was leftover pot roast with potatoes, carrots, gravy, hapa rice, and steamed kale. I remembered the kale this time. It was hot, salty, and hearty, like a good weekend breakfast should sometimes be.
Those were my two meals. Each probably too large, but each rather pleasurable. I snacked on far more cookies than usual. I think I had seven chocolate peanut butter pie Oreos. I do not feel good about this.
During lunch-dinner, I baked a loaf of sourdough bread in the bread machine. I also read my writing partner’s two stories and left some notes. Then AJ’s book review and left more notes.
The bread came out pretty good. I’ve read that programmed settings on bread machines might not leave enough time in the second rise for sourdough. I looked it up because I’m getting nice, dense, chewy bread, but nothing resembling the airy sourdough I like, with those huge bubbles. I’m going to have to play around, since my machine doesn’t do custom settings. I’m thinking of stopping the machine in the second rise to let it rise longer, then using the “bake” function and just timing it according to recipes online.
I was too full from all the other food to enjoy the bread, beyond one slice just to make sure it was edible.
Ugh. No. I didn’t go for a walk Saturday. I’m going to figure something out for Sunday.
Writing partner and I traded a few texts about work we’re sharing.
Crush Girl replied to the last thing I texted her Friday. I responded. That was it.
I’ll probably share Sunday or Monday one of the things I shared with the writing partner. We’re doing journal prompts together. She doesn’t know about this space for some reason. And since this is a journal, I figure I might as well post here what I’m writing separately with her.
As I’ve written this, an old Doris Day movie with Cary Grant was on. I had do to some Googling to learn it’s That Touch of Mink, 1962. It’s pretty amusing. I only caught the last thirty minutes, so I think I’ll add it to my queue. I don’t have much Grant experience, and just a little bit of Day experience. Grant seems to be phoning it in. But the other actors are pretty good, including Audrey Meadows. You know, from The Honeymooners. I read a synopsis and there’s a scene at a Yankees game, with Roger Maris, Yogi Berra, and Mickey Mantle playing themselves.
Okie dokie. Off to bed. Happy fathers day, if you’re a dad. Happy Sunday if you’re not. Hope you’ll reach out if you’re not getting enough connection. These days it can be difficult!