Good evening

    I'm always more than a little non-plussed when someone wishes me a good evening and it isn't in fact evening. I was especially so this morning before ten when the bagger at Publix did so. I wish I could have come up with some clever, witty riposte that might have, you know, underlined what time of day it in fact was. The best I could come up with, a few minutes too late, was, "I'm still working on the morning, but I'll try to have a good evening, too." Still, I dunno; might come across as snotty. The guy meant well. I guess the best is still the traditional: "Thanks. You, too!"
    Meanwhile at dialysis, zippiness did not last. We had an hour's wait in reality. Even allowing for the fact that we arrived early and that they expect a fifteen-minute grace period, it was still a half hour. I didn't jump up and down or foam at the mouth or anything, but I was not terribly well-pleased. (Well, actually I was, having awakened for some reason in a surprisingly good mood, but not well-pleased about the situation at hand.) Ah well, there will be better days.