Writing about Friday

It is Friday, June 20, 2014, I am sitting in my studio apartment listing to the music my next door neighbor is playing. I have not met the new neighbors, but whoever it is has good taste in music. I am enjoying the experience of listening to music chosen by someone else.

It is about 5:04 pm and the temperature is approximately 102 degrees. It is a hot day in Las Vegas, with the expatiation of hotter days to come. I went to the grocery store this morning, so that I could purchase food while I interacted with offline people. My interaction with others is usually online, so it was a nice change.

I purchased eggs, chicken thighs, three six packs of ginger ale, some tea bags, peanut butter, and a flavor enhancer. I did not buy any fresh vegetables because I have a package of green or red peppers along with radishes in the refrigerate.  I have not decided what I am making this week end, but I believe I will use some of the canned vegetables I have.

I just took a phone call, which derailed my train of thought. I normally do not take calls when I am writing because of the distraction caused by taking to people when I am working on a story, poem, or blog entry. However, this time I made an exception because it was a local number. The only phone calls I answer, when I am writing, are local numbers or family and friends who live across the country.