Sunday was a different sort of day, pretty-well filled with those time-consuming, routine, behind-the-scenes tasks that make the upcoming work-week possible. Laundry out of the way earliest (at a dim foggy hour which seemed rather earlier than usual, seeing as how I had been up the night before till well past midnight in the course of Mabel-minding) – then out to the shops.
Different day, different graphic. It took trips to three different places before I could complete the crossing-off of every item from this disorganized and doubt-ridden list. Tuna is not on the list, not this time.