list-less or list-full?

There are still a lot of days until payday. About 7.

I'm rereading "Atlas Shrugged."

The cats are shedding. Clumps of fur are everywhere.

My stress ball is shaped like Jack Skellington's skull. It is squishy.

Sometimes I use the wrong words for things and use those words with absolute conviction. Later I feel stupid.

Mixing vodka with sparkling lemonade isn't terrible.

I can juggle.

Taking the water taxi home makes commuting fun. I see fish in the water at the pier. They are small and thin, darting around the wooden posts. The water is bluegreen. When the sun is out, it casts splotches of shadows on the surface. When Mt. Rainier is out, it is always a surprise because hey, there is a volcano over there. With snow on top.

Sometimes I eat lunch at the pier. I buy either the alder smoked salmon or the deep fried scallops and chips.

I don't know what I'll eat for lunch today.

Last year about now I was in Yosemite. Same as the year before. I miss how the valley smelled.

I am not a stellar housekeeper.

I put french fries on my cheeseburger.

My hands are cold.