Seven thirty, all is well.

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The hour became late before I took notice.  Sleep was not an option, observation would have had no affect.  Until a bit after midnight I played on.  At least when the realization dawned sleep was available.  For my cyclical sin, waking to an exquisite sort of headache was the price.  It was as if a long curved stilleto blade had been sent through from just above my left brow onto the center of my spine somehow, with great care to include every nerve and bundle possible.  Almost a migraine, probably muscular, fading as I wake.

Among my haul, fresh fruit.  Tig ol' gratefruits, red pears, and honeycrisp apples.  Red pears seem to hit and hold peak longer.  Their standard sisters go from too green to falling apart mush in days, here.  I would guess the reds are from closer?  Apples are always a bit of a gamble.  Depends when they arrived and their origin.  No fault on grociers.  It's just how it works.  To be honest I am amazed at their craft.  Might seem simple, humble, maybe mean.  But I, for one am grateful, impressed.  The honeycrisps, this time, were perfect.  Maybe a gratefruit first?  If it is too acidic I have meat in reserve, ready to heat.  Some citrus hits hard, especially if it's been a while.

Two bills to pay, another shower, a bit more work.  Then waiting.  After today I can sleep as needed.  In two weeks I will begin calling ssa once a week until I know what next.  Other than that hibernation.  Later.