Another white night last night. Finally drifted off well after 3 and was ripped out of sleep five hours later by a caller who at once hung up on me. And I was having such a nice complicated dream too, details of course irrevocably gone.  Something to do with plots and poitics in an imaginary country. Rolled over to go back to sleep-- I get up at 8:30 for nobody-- but couldn't. Thus spent the day awake and heavy-eyed and grouchy.

Grouch contributed to the current bête noir, which is people who press the 'audible signal only' button at intersections, thinking they're going to make the light change by doing so. I know people don't read signs but on days like today it irks me unreasonably. If I weren't a Torontonian I'd ask them 'why did you press that button?' and see what they had to say, but I am and I don't. Luckily or un-, the audible signal no longer sounds when people press it: which is tough on the semi-sighted. 

Thus accomplished nothing today beyond getting a scrip from the pharmacy and cooking up the (rarely come by these days) chicken livers in a ginger orange sauce. It's been so long since I've had them that I forgot my recipe calls for green onions to go with and didn't buy any, but I did add frozen, putatively Canadian, broccoli for extra iron. I hope it's not just Green Giant putting maple leaves on their packages but eyes were too gunky to decipher the print on the label.

This blog assures me that every November I sneeze and cough and run at the nose so my current waterlogged state is simply same old, same old. Any antihistamine or sinus meds I can find of course have Tylenol in them so it's probably just as well that my system has taken against alcohol. However, when I finally weighed myself this morning after six weeks of cowardice, I discovered that last month's overindulgence in Black Russians and crême liqueurs had no lasting impact and I'm actually down half a kilo. So must keep it up. Winter and its couch potatodom are fast approaching.