...and then I spilled most of a bowl of Cheerios on myself and the floor by my desk. Not in the schlemazel "oh, this always happens to me!" way, but in a completely oblivious slide of my lower desk shelf while I read something online. It hadn't occurred to me that I might spill. A lot isn't occurring to me right now.

What is it about a demi-stupor that drives me to document every thought and action? Like I need to save everything I'm doing now while I can't properly analyze for later. Or like I'm some sort of lab specimen.

Dog is extremely useful for cleaning up Cheerios. I knew it would be OK if I missed some of them, and he just finished his search-and-destroy mission for the stragglers. Now he's looking at me like he wants more. Sorry, little one.

Somebody is intermitently blowing an airhorn outside. Why? Left over from graduation earlier today and every so often the curriosity of it overcomes people at the party?

I need to take dog out. He's been so good today. I am so lucky to have him for days like the past few, when he forces me to get fresh air and otherwise provides love and company while I'm conscious and unconscious alike.