Apart from the professional manipulation of my pedal extremities, there are no other plans for the day. I'll stop at the grocery to replenish the supply of bread, soft drinks, and ham salad, current staples of my diet.
I dreamed last night, a weirdie, that I have not yet decided I will record. Generally, I refuse, having embarked upon the course of recording all my dreams, to deviate from the practice of transcribing each of my dreams to Baddreams, but I don't like this one particularly and it is uncommonly vague and quite odd. I may not record this one simply because I dislike it so, a variation I had determined not to commit. So much for resolve.
I hope to embark on a new writing project today. I've soured on SC's adventures for some reason and want to give him a rest. Instead I am going to write "Une lettre anonyme de l'amour" in the belief, like that of Cyrano, that I might woo a woman with words alone as, indeed, he did. Oh for a woman to woo!When complete, I'll make another entry to let you know where to find the letter. The dream will be in the usual place.