Dreamed of getting up in the morning and looking for a computer file before anyone else in the house was awake; driving along a scenic road in rural California.
Dropped brochures in mailboxes in the Lambert Lodge-Melita area. I skipped the mailboxes with "No flyers" signs. (Maybe I'm too conscientious for politics.)
Dinner was spaghetti, which I cooked, using our [temporary] convection stove for the first time.
In the evening I went to the campaign office and drew up some more precinct sheets.
Sore throat.
Went to karaoke, but I was up to only one song: "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic."
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