Took the bacon and 120 eggs to Lena. Api barked very loudly in the hall, I think the echo reached from lower ground floor to the 12th floor (or how many their segment of the building has). They're fine, just have issues at work, because one of the three trannies they have is monopolizing the mike and letting everyone know how special they is (the person is one they, and they is wearing dresses and makeup and looks quite female, just claims they is not) and to be extremely sensitive about how everyone speaks, to try to use gender neutral everything in speech etc etc. They haven't become a training center, they're a protective workshop for persons with special needs. I hope they get some tax relief for that. So that's four unproductive members - the three trannies and the coach aka political(ly corrective) commissar.
The road wasn't quite empty, but just rather empty, as if it was 1992. I was able to overtake two trucks at a time - and there weren't too many trucks either. I saw one bus on the way, but on the way back I saw it was now parked on the shoulder, abandoned with all four flashing. When I told Lena about this on skype, she said "huh... who knows" - "I'd say its driver does" - "there's my answer.".
For about a month now I'm on a temporal diet, aka intermittent fasting - what I ate between noon and 19:00 is all, I stopped taking snacks beyond that point. Not that those snacks ever amounted to anything much, but I kept adding and the expectation from my stomach was usually "some more may come". Not that I'm much thinner now - went down from 87 to 85 really fast, but now I'm still at 85. And only five years ago I was at 82.
In other news (she passed the link), bulgarian police used tear gas against the wind.
Symptoms: my palms were itchy for a couple of days, the sweat glands are clogged and swollen, so I have a bunch of those tiny bumps, less than 1mm in diameter and barely visible because of negligible height, unless the light hits them almost parallel to the surface. Doesn't itch much, just a bit in the morning, when the roughness of the towel hits the right places and I get a pleasure from contact.