Last night at midnight, when I had a craving for tortilla chips and salsa, Rob immediately pulled on his shoes and ventured through the waist-high snowdrifts to procure some. It was the most romantic gesture since Romeo and Juliet bit the big one. (He does not even like tortilla chips and salsa.)

Today is a good day to work on business plans, according to my horoscope, and so, fortified by the last of the tortilla chips and salsa, I am working on a business plan. An old episode of "ER" is on in the background, Goblin is asleep on the bed, the furnace is gurgling, and snow is piled up against the windows.

And I also just smashed my finger in the mechanism of a tray table. My horoscope did not warn me about that.

Rob goes away tomorrow.