The dregs of January!

That line from a song by Gordon Lightfoot rattled around inside my brain at 3:30 AM on a brisk early morning in late January, 2018. I realized that I was so not living la vida loca and that the cold dregs of January were turning me every so slightly towards a more nihilistic approach to life and living.

That said, I still needed to contemplate all things basic, not the least of which was eating a decent breakfast. And even as that blessed event was still some hours away, I spent no little amount of time in bed planning such culinary and mundanely related matters... tic tock tic tock....

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At the 6AM hour I 'bounded' out of bed, in a manner only other old men could ever understand! It was 28 degrees outside, the sky was clear (as best I could make out) and the winds were nonexistent. Not a day to want to venture out, but rather one to stay in the kitchen, perhaps, and whittle away at what had been a promising diet. On this morning, I elected to throw together a cheese omelet and some biscuits covered in brown gravy. (My only effort towards eating healthy resided in a glass of low sodium tomato juice). The rest of it was pure and very enjoyable crap. 

Breakfast came and went all too quickly. Sort of like a dream that you forget all to quickly. I washed my dishes and put them away while contemplating all the chores that needed to be done, even while also scheming madly on how I could avoid doing them.  One of those chores involved taking out the trash. A task that required me to walk about a half a block to a dumpster... in the cold. I decided the trash was just fine where it was...

Walking over to the living room, I sank down into my easy chair, turned on the TV and then turned it off and took a nap. Heck, lunch was just a few hours away...