Thursday Morning

Fio had a bad night, but when she woke up, she grabbed her bedside tablet and wrote "Last night I was molten, but today, I am steel," which was a good start to a poem, but wasn't quite true. As the day wore on, she became more and more depressed, even taking a long afternoon nap. Then came dinner. Fio, who usually doesn't cook, selfishly put a slab of salmon in the oven because she knew she needed some protein. Surprise, the salmon was GREAT! Perfect, in fact, and Fio and Husband gorged themselves on it. Somehow, as Fio cleaned up the kitchen, the day seemed a lot brighter than it had been. OMG--is Fiorella so shallow that thet state of her stomach governs her moods?
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Now that Husband is recovering from his hospital and re-hab stays, he's tending to the finer aspects of life, like his hearing aids, THANK GOODNESS. It wasn't till he got them repaired and started wearing them again that Fio realized she'd had to be in a constant shouting mode for the last two months.  It's also nice to know that , with the TV volume kept down to a decent level, Fio doesn't have to leave the room when she's trying to work on her computer.
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Fiorella doesn't have any problem with Muslim women or Catholic nuns or anyone else wearing religious headgear. What she does have a problem with is anyone wearing face coverings. We must be able to identify each other.