Back at my desk in the fruit stand that I frequent most often. It is Thursday, February 19 2026. I’ve been listening to the Cocteau Twins a lot lately. A few weeks ago, I was offered a chance to load whatever Amazon playlists I had to my YouTube Music account. It wasn’t as good an idea as I hoped, as there was a lot of mislabeled crap that contained things that I owned, but the playlists were not worth it, so I have been deleting every now and then.

I met Liz and Robin years ago when the wonderful Stan Bogdansky brought them to Maxwell’s. I was trying to be cool and asked a few questions about Colourbox, who were label mates to the Cocteau Twins on 4AD. I was more than likely annoying.

And of course Cocteau Twins reminds me of Jet Watley, gone more years than when he was alive.

I am also taking online classes that I’m not paying much attention to as part of the staffing agency that placed me at the fruit stand, and how they are trying to get their fingers into my life, for which I greatly resent them.

I am home now. Eyelids heavy. I nodded off at work once or twice. Just for a few seconds. A closing of my eyes. It could be from the cutback on my coffee consumption. That’s what I like to think. I don’t think it’s anything worse than that, and it makes sense. To me, at least. I probably would have done that on the train home, but I was standing, and that would have been risky.

Bill is still below the Mason-Dixon line, and Mike is on the couch. I am here once again in front of the computer screen, typing. The Watchmen series is on, and I hoped Mike would have been into it, but he’s looking at his phone, and I can’t compete with that. I have been watching intermittently for the past few hours intermittently, so I am guilty as well.

Mike actually called out my hypocrisy a few weeks ago, saying my looking at the computer is the same as him looking at his phone. I countered by saying that the smartphone is held in your hand, and I am somewhat disconnected from the computer. I’m not holding it, and it’s not controlling me. Or is it?

And it’s later than I realized, so I am typing close to my bedtime. Not that it’s a problem, it isn’t. I’m taking it slow and easy. Tomorrow might just be a slow and easy kind of day. Don’t want to say too much about it now, but I suppose I will tomorrow. So you might just have to wait for this here blog tomorrow.

If you waited from 2014 to 2024, then you might just have to wait a few hours, which is not so bad after all. And I’m sure you waited…

And it is almost time for me to take it down, meaning, go to bed.