Well, yesterday I drank some contaminated tomato juice, and then I got sick, sick, sick. I am largely better now, except I now have some suspicious body aches that lead me to think I was kidnapped by aliens who decided, just for grins, to insert broken glass into my head and neck. As if that wasn't enough, I have gone through a pack of light bulbs in my Ikea lamp today. They keep burning out, but only when I am not looking, which suggests either the aliens are at it again or else that really was ectoplasm I found in my medicine cabinet a few days ago (thanks to which, incidentally, I no longer have any medicine that may help me in the house, since I had to throw all of the contents away).

I was going to work all day. I have many deadlines. But instead, I have found comfort in old episodes of "Designing Women," which, while they have not eased my pain, have provoked in me an entirely artificial southern accent and a penchant for righteous harangues that have left Goblin's little bat ears glowing red. (Do not confuse these with her devil ears.)

And to top it all off, when I dragged myself out of bed to take her for her morning walk, I ran into a perky neighbor couple whom I have seen four days in a row. This would ordinarily not perturb me overmuch, except they are the sort of people who live to point out things like that. "Wow, we've seen you three times in three days!" "Jeepers! Four times now!" I have the uncomfortable idea that if we make it to five, they are going hire caterers and a band to commemorate the occasion.

I am cranky and alone. Somebody come and cook me dinner or take me to tea.