The day ahead. Tuesday. Or is it Wednesday?
I listen for the day’s numbers, (too many,) drink tea, eat toast, shower and dress, buy one thing from the supermarket, count my steps, do some washing, either whites or coloureds. Not both. Peg it out.
I work. I talk to the screen, camera on sometimes, sometimes not. I walk too familiar streets.
I feed the cat. I cook. I eat. I stare into space.
Neither happy nor unhappy, but still, patiently, determinedly, able to wonder, plan and dream.