The morning is nearly gone. I slept in and then took my time reading the papers and checking my e-mail. All of it was a delaying tactic as I knew my mind was empty, devoid of original thought. The idea of filling a blank page was scary. What’s to say? The problem is I’m bored. I even thought about going through the cabinet hunting for my apple slicer, corer. The whole absurd idea of cabinet foraging is indicative of how far gone I must be. I remember summers when I’d whine to my mother there was nothing to do in the whole town. This is one of those moments. Sure, Gracie and I could go for a ride but what’s to see?  Maybe we should shop: the use of maybe tells you how really bored I am. Never do I use maybe and shopping in the same sentence. I suppose I should change my bed. Whoopee!! (which must be read with a tone oozing sarcasm). Maybe I should read those catalogs: the pile is high enough to be dangerous should it fall on one of the cats, but I know that won’t work. I’ve tried it before. The catalog ends up on the floor as soon as boring rears its ugly head. The house is dusty and, given my mood, will stay dusty. Cleaning is never the solution for anything.

My landscaper cleared the yard yesterday. I can see my grass, the driveway and the deck. All the leaves and pine needles are gone. I watched out the front door. Looking back, I realize that was the first indication of creeping ennui. Leaf raking and blowing will never be interesting yet I stood and watched.

TV last night sent me reading. I’ve started Stolen Prey, a John Sandford. I read three pages then put it down. Even mass murder couldn’t hold my interest.

The last two Walking Dead programs are on my DVR. I suppose I could watch zombies eating live people and live people killing zombies. Such fun is almost overwhelming to contemplate.

Well, this is it. I’ve finally run out of words.