Day of the Dealt Hand, 48th of Summer, 525 M.E. (Betelgeuse): Samuel Pepys kept a diary of his daily life for almost ten years. The record is more than a million words long and covered the events of daily British life and major political and social events of the 17th century, the contemporary theatre, his affairs with various stage actresses, his household, his personal finances, the time he got up in the morning, the weather, what he ate, and even his own bowel movements. Fascinating stuff, I'm sure (I never read him). 

I've been keeping this blog about my daily life for over 21 years. Li'l Sammy Pepys doesn't have shit on me. I've covered the events of daily American life and major political and social events of the early 21st century, the Covid epidemic, a couple of Trump presidencies, climate change, contemporary arts and music, my thoughts about Zen and other spiritual matters, my personal finances, what time I get up in the morning, the weather, and what I eat. I believe I've spared you news about daily bowel movements (however, I'm quite regular if you really must know) and if I ever have an affair with a stage actress, you'll be the first to know about it. 

Future historians are free to use this blog for insight and an as-it-happened account of the fall of civilization, but a) I'm sure far more and far better accounts abound out there, and b) there probably won't be anyone around after the collapse that might care about such things.  

The sun rose at 6:37 am this morning and will set at 8:50 pm. I weighed in at 167 pounds at 9:29 am, and my blood pressure was 111/71. I walked a Van Buren today (8.6 miles) in 91° weather, 19,233 steps at an average 21.3 inches per step and an average speed of 3 mph. I had two cups of coffee, black, and an English muffin, toasted, for breakfast. Lunch was a banana, an orange, and peanut butter on two slices of whole wheat bread. Dinner tonight will be a southern cobb salad with balsamic vinaigrette. I might have a beer (Dogfish Head 90-Minute IPA) tonight, or I might not. We'll see. After my walk, I read my daily assignment of James Joyce's Ulysses ("wide sagegreen pasturefields, shedding her dusk, scattering a perennial dew of stars") and then listened to the last couple innings of the Red Sox game over Sirius XM radio (the Sox won, 1-0). After dinner, I intend to watch an episode or two of Mr. Robot and play a little Dying Light 2 video game before retiring to bed to read (I finished Stuart O'Nan's 1988 novel, Wish You Were Here, last night and will probably start on its sequel, Emily, Alone, tonight) and thence to sleep, perchance to dream.

Let the historians and statisticians do what they will with that.