I started writing (as is my wont) ‘to see what comes out’ only to discover nothing was coming out – at least nothing of importance or of interest. I didn’t have anything profound or witty to write; there are no amazing goings-on. I thought to delete it all but decided not to. A bad day at the gym is better than not going to the gym at all, and I suppose this applies to writing.* Not all scribbles will be stellar.

I am rawther tired of the heat. Highs remain in the 40s (C) and the night walks remain stifling. No fun this. You could bake an egg in the closed garage with its southern exposure. The house is bedecked with autumn decorations but it still feels like summer. This is the Arizonian equivalence to late February in the Midwest: you are bloody sick of waiting for the season to change.

This Wednesday morning I go get my seasonal bloodwork done to monitor a borderline elevated glucose level, so I’ve been extra careful with my eating this week, hoping to dodge again the pre-diabetes diagnosis. Being on a more austere diet doesn’t help the cantankerous moods that arise from a hot September.

Even work seems a bit dull. It is mostly ‘med checks’ which are long-timers doing well, obliged to come in from time to time to tell me they are still well and what they are doing remains good. Of course this is a good thing, but it is not especially interesting. As my dance card is getting full, I don’t see many new ones these days; newbies keep me on my toes. There is a pharm rep lunch this week Wednesday but I don’t remember what they will be flogging.

For folks who keep up with this sort of stuff, I’ve put a perfectly good chair and IV pole out by the curb and no one has taken them. Someone took the broken lawn umbrella. Can you imagine? I’ve put outside another painted rock. This one is two-colored (how daring!) of dark blue and bright yellow. I hope the HOA don’t have any Spartans on their board.

A final Tuesday tidbit of no importance: I ordered butterscotch sweeties for the Phoenix office candy dish. Given the heat and the circumstances, candies must be individually wrapped and not the sort that easily melts. I add to the candy criteria “something I don’t particularly care for” so I don’t end up eating them myself. I’ve never been a big butterscotch fan, and I don’t know anyone who is – which makes me wonder why the flavor endures.

Tune in tomorrow maybe I will have something better to post.

*I went on line to get a quote and was comforted to find my mentor Flannery O’Conner as saying: “Not writing is a good deal worse than writing.”