Where in the name of Jiminy Cricket's horrendous tacos did this day go? You can search me, but you won't find anything — and I won't feel the least bit bad about it. Because I'm just as confused as you are! Anyway …

I rose at half-past seven, drank a pint of a fine pilsner whilst reading The News, tossed a quart bag of coins into my good old orange backpack, hopped on the charming KLX300SM, and rode to the food store to purchase crud for my belly. I used a contraption in the lobby to trade my metric ass-ton of metal for paper money, did my shopping, and then at the crucial moment of payment found that I had forgotten my I'm-good-for-it card and that my new paper wasn't enough to cover the amount due.

Do you imagine that I began to curse both the skies and myself? I did not! And Spankster, if you think that I did you are incorrect. Because I didn't. What I thought (and felt) was: "Ha! I get to take another trip on the charming KLX300SM — that's just WONDERFUL." And that "just wonderful" wasn't sarcastic, either. The Masters of the Human Mind call that trick reframing and, believe you me, they will charge you a pretty penny for those kind of cheap hacks. So back home to stuff a way to pay into the dextral pocket of my trusty Dickies Original 874 Work Pants (color: Navy Blue, if you just must know, Nosy Spanky 🙄) and then back to food store to finish up my transaction. [The food store's system accomodated this nicely. I told a food store employee that I didn't have payment, but that I intended to return, and that person generated a small chit for me that bore a scannable code that would allow the computer system to pull up my crap. And that's exactly what happened! Upon my return to food store, I simply retrieved my bags, scanned the code, and paid. Also, this tells me I'm not the only person ever to have needed to run home for payment.]

I returned to my home, ate my cruddy crap -- which by the way I'm losing weight like crazy on -- and then … here falls the shadow … I lay me down for a short snooze but didn't wake up until almost four in the afternoon. I've just pulled eleven days straight for the job (which is no joke) but I didn't realize I was that depleted.

I washed up an armload of socks and my work clothes and now it is again half-past seven, but in the dark time this time, and I will need to wake up at a quarter 'til three this coming next day.

So I will close the same way I opened: where did the day go? (It is a rhetorical question, Spanky-o-mine. I know you don't know.) 😒

My crazy little Spanky — this is a Day Book; it's not all that well edited. (Meaning that it ain't edited at all.) I will continue to say this to you: you need to relax. 😘