Today, on the first work day of 2022, I cleaned the apartment. So now I don’t have to worry about doing that again until 2023, or 2024, whichever comes first.

I’m not sure if my inability to make that determination is evidence of a specific erosion of arithmetic skills, a general cognitive decline, or a rift in the space-time continuum (which seems to take the blame for almost everything else), but, in any case, it’s a clear demonstration of cerebral atrophy in the age of Covid, confirming the adage, use it or . . . , something.

What I am sure about is that I’m a valued Amazon customer. Why else would they, having seen all the bamboo products I’ve been buying (towels, sheets, serving trays, waste baskets, scaffolding) send me a complimentary, complementary, red panda (giant pandas being out of stock, again)?

Okay, I haven’t yet purchased bamboo scaffolding, though it is available in the world and might come in handy as a sort of jungle gym for Ralph (the panda).

It also occurred to me that I could teach Ralph to type (after someone first teaches me), so that someday, perhaps, he could relieve me of the arduous task of transcribing these blogs from the audio cues I leave on my recorder while talking in my sleep.