Nothing Much and Pat Tillman

A whole lotta nothin' went on yesterday.  Did several loads of wash and other housework.  Contacted Fran Z. to see  where she advertised the flea market coming up on Saturday.  In the Atlantic City Press and The Packet, she said--aagh!  Those rags have a total readership of about fourteen and where are the flyers that should be all around town?
Well, I didn't actually say that to her, but asked her to send me what she had posted.  She did and it was nothing but print, soliciting vendors.  B-o-r-ring, non-creative, and easy to ignore, so I made up a jazzier one, with catchy words and a colorful picture.  Put it up at the clubhouse and will post it elsewhere on Tuesday.
In truth, I was a bit out of sorts yesterday.  Guess I was more disappointed at the no-show lookers than I had thought.  I lay down on the couch for a nap--always a sign that I'm feeling down--and had some unpleasant--well, what?  Dreams or half-awake reveries? Not sure, but I got up and determined to shake myself out of this. Had a bite to eat, then got in the car and drove to Manahawkin. Took something back to Kohl's and bought toothpaste, a rib eye steak, and four Father's Day cards; by the time I got home, I was feeling chipper again.
Back from Manhattan, Aline called and we'll do something together today.
WIDER: http://www.truthdig.com/report/item/after_pats_birthday_20150524