Up at 4. I actually woke up around 1, then went back to sleep which is fine, because I'd only slept maybe 5 hours the night before. And I felt OK, mouth not dry, pretty good.
It's a balmy 81 in here, and the air quality is "light orange" or around 75.
I had my coffee and was out of here a bit before 6. I was just delivering the packages that *had* to go out today. It was really orange-colored out there. Not as bad as the first time but still not great.
Coming out of the post office, traffic was light enough for me to cut across the road and use the turn lane thing that cars do, and I heard something coming up; maybe a Cushman scooter? It sounded like a lawnmower.
It was a guy on a motorcycle; the sorriest looking motorcycle, not a 250 but maybe a 450 and it sounded like a damn lawnmower. Both it and its rider looked pathetic as hell, and sure enough, on the back there was a big red Trump sticker. The thing putted gutlessly up the road, and I thought, If you're a huge loser, why have a Trump sign? Of course it was the street rabble who were the most rabid Hitler followers (their hero Horst Wessel was a small-time criminal and pimp) and it must be a case of wanting to be part of something bigger than oneself. The only thing actually bigger about Trump is his waistline, but the thing is, the dirtball riding that gutless bike (probably a leaky head gasket) is probably welcome just about nowhere around here* but he'd be welcome at a Trump rally or a Trump followers' gathering of any sort.
*The Asians etc who run stores here are wise to look at whites with a very jaundiced view, but I am treated fairly nicely because I'm clean-cut, no tattoos, try to smell decent, no long hippie hair etc.
I got back here and started in on waxing the bathroom floor with honest-to-goodness Johnson paste wax that comes in a yellow can. I'd been kind of fascinated with the stuff since seeing it among the few essentials being sold in a tiny store in Waikiki. I'd cleaned the floor before heading out, so now I smeared this stuff on, let it dry for half an hour with the fan going, then polished it. The polishing stage is a bit of exercise, but it went pretty well. I used a cloth I'd picked up off the road on 7th street that probably fell off a workman's truck so except for the cost of the wax it's a pretty low-cost operation. The floor's now not the perfection of a floor on an Army base but it's on its way.
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