Little things to begin all else.

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Trash, collected, and out then on to the curb.  Such a simple task.  Such a nuisance.  Still, done.  I also found the source of a sour odor.  I used to use those mechanically self-wringing mops.  They really are made for women.  I kept going through them, not knowing or discovering why.  As it turns out, when I wring those, after about... a score or two wrings, the mechanism dies.  I just learned this as I decided to use up what I have in inventory.  I think I have a few more mop heads, if it wasn't the mop heads that gave way... but the mechanism on the mop handles, then I am done.  If the handle mechanisms are still good, I will use the mop heads up.  A waste either way.  Sure, light and easy to use.  But if they can't take a wring...  Well... the head on one of those had been removed, but I hadn't wrung it out... because of the failure (of some sort).  So... it got sour.  It smelled a lot like a diaper, to be honest.  Luckily, it was in the trash already.  The odd thing?  While I could smell it, I couldn't actually find it.  It seemed to be elsewhere.  But it was right where it should have been.

Trash, prepping for some dishes, little bits of this and that going on.  A spot of tea going.  Planning on a shower, after a bit.  I just wanted to get the trash out before I missed the pickup.  Well, and doing a few things sort of primes the pump.  I would like to fix a few eggs, perhaps with cheese thrown in, and onion as well?  Or I'll just skip for not.  I really need to remember to add kefir water to a cup of grains for breakfast.  That's good stuff, easy, fast to make, and actually pretty cheap.  You just have to be willing to spend more than a few seconds getting it from a package to a microwave, or such.

Funny?  I've spent the last thirty years trying to regain focus.  I used to be able to do incredible feats of focus.  Sudoku may be showing that I have little bits of that returning, though perhaps at depths I might not have had before.  While I am coming back to focus, over a rather damaged body, I see most... even the young... trying to find their way to what I have been trying to escape.  They don't want to think, or act, or be able to function.  They want to be oblivious.  I'll warn you once, coming back from that is... well... hell.  Don't go there.  I didn't have a lot of choice.  You do.  My guess is it is even harder to come back if you chose to go there.

Well... a bit of a rest, then I'll call the butcher shop, see where that process is.  Later.