Piecework to well past midnight. The general unconscious conspiracy against the dawn continues.
Have lost the cross-breeze for the nonce, as the apartment next door appears to either be spontaneously emitting Bulgarian music (which continues to strike me as very Turkish in style), vape fumes, and the scent of frying meat -- or someone's there. As the vape fumes seemed a bit odd, sealed off that vector. The music and the meat scents seem to have stoppped today, so perhaps the cross-breeze can return soon. In Humble Quarters, it's best to be as far from people as possible. I could make a nut-shell a sufficient monastic kingdom unless there's someone else nearby.
Always best to have a bit of the suoave in the vento. Much better than mind-altering substances suspended in a cloud of vegetable oil.