Bleagh.

I have returned Love in the Time of Cholera to Audible. It got too dark for me, and too sexual. I also returned I'll Show Myself Out, because there were two F-bombs in the first 13 minutes, which did not bode well. I've fired up another book by Arthur C. Brooks, because I liked the first one so much.

In other reading news, I've begun the second volume in the Hell's Library trilogy, after having re-read the first, and I am enjoying it immensely. After work last night, I betook myself to Rockfish for a celebratory dinner. While I got drowsy several times during the day, I didn't actually nod off. I had crab cakes with remoulade sauce, a cup of clam chowder, and garlic bread with marinara sauce to dip it in (which concept had never occurred to me, and it is definitely an upgrade to an old favorite).

I am waiting for a text from the yard dudes, who are swinging by sometime this morning to give me an estimate on removing several volunteer trees from the front yard. I'm putting off getting fully dressed until I get that text. The pecan tree will need trimming before the end of the summer; otherwise the weight of the pecans will cause at least one limb to impede access to the sidewalk.

What I would *really* like to do, right now, is to turn off the lights and go back to sleep. I did sleep reasonably well last night, and I'm still tired.

I had to laugh at myself the other day. The supporting information arrived so that I could re-submit a couple of expenses which were denied for reimbursement. My doctor included "hypertension" in his notes, and I said to myself, "I don't have high blood pressure. I have low blood pressure." And then I remembered that the last several times my BP has been measured, it has been elevated. Ergo, hypertension. Of course, it came right back down again.

Time to go stick my nose in a book.