Sunday; Monday - Out; Monday - A Moral Dilemma; Tuesday - Out; Tuesday - In; Wednesday

I've noticed any number of times, if I do too much, I become over tired. It's almost as if I can feel the serotonin levels becoming out of balance. There's this terrible sense of self-recrimination devoid of logic or chronology. It's like I've been handed a basket filled with tiny pieces of paper on which is written some event that generates consternation.

Little events. Big events. Legal. Illegal. Long ago. Yesterday. Makes no difference.

And then a period of lethargy creeps in, and I feel exhausted and will wind up sleeping on and off for long periods.

Sunday I noticed the beginning of the cycle and felt tired, depressed and irritated. I was in the back trimming scrubs, but I felt this great sadness. An though I was on the verge of tears, but none came.

Monday morning, I woke at 9 and was overcome with this "irresistible desire" to mow the front yard. I'd raked it the previous week, and I could tell it needed one more cutting. It only took about 90 minutes, which was about the shortest I've ever been able to do it. I learned several months ago, that since I'm using an electric mower, it has to be done a certain way, or you spend half your time flipping the cord. And even doing it this say, you still have to drag the cord this way and that.

I was surprised at how well it looked at the end. Possibly the best all season.

Sometime ago, I bought one of these long-handled grippers that let's you pick up things without having to bend over. One of the best purchases, I've ever made. For the last three months, I've been going over the front; picking up any and all pine cones husks, the squirrels eat these like candy and throw the remainders everywhere; pine cones; and twigs and limbs.

By doing this on a very regular basis, it makes the overall job so much easier.

After lunch, I was again in the front cleaning the drive, when I noticed a young man in his 20s walking down the side street in my direction. (There's a street that dead ends at my yard, so my house is in the center of the horizontal bar of a "T.")

It occurred to me that there are not a lot of walkers in the neighborhood. And those that do follow a certain pattern. For example, kids from about 3:30 to 6.

He must have turned the corner, for in a few minutes he approached me from the other direction. Cargo shorts, trainers, jersey, baseball cap. But I was thrown by his nationality; I finally decided on Mediterranean or Middle East; Morocco to Kuwait. Did I find him attractive; well, of course I did.

His knowledge of English was limited, but I gathered he was willing to pay me to take him to work. He indicated he lived near by, in the direction from which he had come. My first reaction was "Of course." But then I thought this was like picking up a hitchhiker. Not necessarily a good idea. Yet, at the same time, I felt like his story sounded sincere.

But I've been robbed once at gun point on getting out of my car. I've been conned several times by people in parking lots asking for help. I even picked up a guy in a parking lot once to help him get fuel for his truck and wound up giving him money, so he could meet his traveling companion at a bar. (Really smart, don't you think!)

All this went through my mind, and I finally said I couldn't help him. And immediately hated myself.

I slept later on Tuesday and after lunch attacked the hedge row in the back. What a nuisance this is. The hedge has grown about eight feet into the property, and each plant is at least ten feet high. The underbrush consist of decades of rotten leaves, decayed limbs, tangled vines and inches of pine straw.

So to do just one small section takes hours. I'm trying to trim back all the plants until I can use the reciprocating saw to cut them. I'll snip a limb, then chop it up into smaller sections for the trash container. Usually, I'll have some limbs that are too thick, so they go in the reciprocating saw pile.

All I can do on the raking is to hit the top level, then wait for the under growth to dry, then try the next level. Etc. All the while being careful to avoid the yellow jacket infestation.

Is it possible to rent flamethrowers?

Around 5, I was struck with a terrible headache, and I had to go to bed immediately. The last time I was at the doctor's, I got prescriptions for drainage and headaches, and it was very helpful. I was back up by 7.

After this nonsense, I came in and scrubbed the knotty pine wall behind the stove and refrigerator. I'd cleaned the outside of the refrig and the floor underneath, several months ago, so that only took about 15 minutes to do.

Did I forget to mention that I finished the top row of cabinet doors - outside and in. Do they look better? I guess they do, except for the places where I scrapped the finish.

I was able to push the stove out about three feet. From the looks of the floor, this was a first. I hit the wall with cleanser, sponge and abrasive pad. Not too hard. Same thing with the back of the stove. By now the floor was a huge sloppy mess but yielded quickly to lots of paper towels and some household cleaner. Then I moved the refrig and the stove to the side and cleaned the side of the cabinet next to the stove. From start to finish, an hour more or less.

Another headache, this one around 6, and again the headache pills. Up by around 7:15. I was fearful I'd miss "Veronica Mars," which has become one of my favorites. Very, very clever writing. And I think I'm in love with Logan.

Sooner or later, I knew the mind-achingly fatigue would pounce. And today was such a day. I'd get up to feed the cats or go to the bathroom, then back to sleep. Around 4, I got up and went outside to play with my clippers and hatchet.

When I came in I vacuumed the rugs, and by some unknown accident managed to spread cat poo all over one of the rugs. Have no idea how I did this. But I looked down, and I had it on my right arm and up and down both legs of my jeans. I'm totally flummoxed by how I did that.

Something else odd happened as I was vacuuming, the tv suddenly came on. My first thought was that one of the cats pawed the remote. But no, they were all in the kitchen having din din. After about 30 seconds, it went off.

Pixies? Poltergeist? Aliens? I did forget to wear my aluminum foil skullcap today.

PAX!