Why doesn’t this microphone work on Google Docs but it works on Google Translate? Motherfucking son of a bitch

I am across the river from the 79 Street boat basin.
This fucking microphone is a pain in the ass. It’s not available when I need it to be available; it seems to operate on its own schedule, which is bullshit.

I started writing this when I was riding my bicycle yesterday on one of my breaks, and it would not take. Here I am 24 hours later, and it’s sort of working. But it’s still bullshit.

I wrote to North Bergen, which is the most banal place to go to. Liberty State Park was not available, actually, it was, but my spots were fenced off due to a watchmaker’s horse and pony show. I opted not to go to that and dealt with the banal.

I did about 12 miles as compared to the 13 that I usually do when I go to Liberty State Park I’m not complaining, it was good to get out.

I came home and was a bit of a zombie. My legs are feeling my age. The magnesium helped, I think perhaps it’s mind over matter or a placebo. I decided to listen to music online and also use the Bloom10 app, which works somewhat, but not at the volume I would have liked it to.

I wasn’t watching much TV, so around 5:45, I opted to go to the supermarket to buy some of that Newman’s lemonade that I am so fond of and Bill sneakingly drinks from and leaves me very little to drink for myself. So I walked up with my leaden legs and bought more lemonade for myself and inadvertently for Bill.

I did watch a lot of things on YouTube, various documentaries and discussions, and whatnot it was somewhat interesting, an interview with Richard Ayoade and David Letterman, but I did not pay too much attention to it. I was back on my sleep routine, which definitely helps. Slept somewhat soundly.

Woke up this morning wishing I could stay in bed, but realizing I have a good job and there is a caveat to that, having a good job where I have to attend a meeting with Yvonne, who is my manager/counselor/person in Seattle. The meeting was scheduled for 11:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, she told me it was 8:00 a.m., and I had to ask her if it was Eastern Standard Time, and she said no, Pacific Standard Time, so that meant 11:00 a.m., and at 11:00 a.m. I was there, and she was not.

Apparently, she moved the meeting to noon, and either I was not told or I overlooked the change. It’s an annoying inconvenience, and that will take 30 minutes out of my day. I do not like meetings, and my contact with Yvonne lessens my esteem for her. So now I have 33 minutes until the meeting.

And it turns out that doesn’t happen either. I have to find the scheduling assistant in the email that she sent.

Depression was around the edges yesterday, Sunday, but it was not insurmountable. The bike ride definitely helped.

Up Up and Away by the 5th Dimension is playing in my head.

I heard from Mike a few times this morning, and spoke to Bill a few times this morning. Mike had a job offer with the kind of company that Juan had worked for a number of years ago. It did not work out for a while, which lasted maybe 48 hours. Basically, Mike has to stick with the devil he knows.