It feels strangely like a long holiday weekend as Stu's in Florida, so my way-of-keeping-track-of-days meter is all kaput. No waking at 6, no remembering it's Thursday and Stu goes to the U District, no weekend/weekday markers. I no longer volunteer on Tuesdays at New Beginnings so few days have special significance. Mondays are when Jean the fabulous masseuse comes but that's only once a month and Library Van Delivery Day is the first Thursday.

When Stu's away, I don't sleep. That totally bugs me but it's a fact that after 18+ years of mostly having someone next to you, 'tis indeed rawther habit-forming. So I'm going on several days of sleep deprivation. This means that I lower expectations and don't expect much from myself. Simple tasks are ok and I can in fact concentrate to the point of doing the Times crossword today, but I do suspect that only means that, Will Shortz, I do love you so, but I think the puzzles might be easier for me. Or something.

One thing I am doing is continuing The Great Room Toss and Cleaning project. It's dismaying how 10 minutes of closet straigtening does me in. Bleah. I got the OK to increase my meds this week but there are simply some things that the best pain meds cannot mask or end, so the can't-fix-it left shoulder whines. But it IS getting done (pant, pant, huff, puff). And it's been warm hyar in Seattle (god they whine - we whine - it hits 82 and we're reeling and writhing in coils because we're all sweaty and gonna just DIE) so my "poor baby" grocery shopping included much ice cream. (Willie Nelson's Country Peach Cobbler, a new B&J flavor got tested last night. Oh GOD GOD GOD.)

But (god I write long meandering distracted intros before I get anywhere near the point, don't I just?) I'm not trying to read anything new given the approximate 4 hours a night if I'm lucky sleep pattern of the last um, 4? nights. I reread one of Barbara Paul's fantastic Marian Larch books, THE APOSTROPHE THIEF. (factoid of the moment; when your brain is a tad fatigued, the word "thief" looks wrong no matter how you spell it.) I got in the mood to reread some Greg Rucka because I'm hoping soon to see a review copy of the upcoming Atticus it's-been-too-damn-long-I-don't-CARE-what-the-explanation-is Kodiak book. And then, as i was moving some books around, grabbed a copy of a book I often reread as "comfort" reading.

Do you do comfort reading? In my definition, that's not necessarily a sweet or happy book but one I know I will enjoy. One I know well, that I appreciate because it's so damn good. What I grabbed was COFFIN'S GOT THE DEAD GUY ON THE INSIDE, by my buddy Keith Snyder. And this must be the oh, I dunno, 5th time i've read it but it was very satisfying. Please know that I'm not saying Keith's (or these other) books are simple so they can be read when you are less that prime. But I cherish the writing, the talent and I swear to you, I laugh out loud at something in his books every time. So then I grabbed TROUBLE COMES BACK and here, friends and neighbors is where I finally get to the point of this post (and please note, this is from TROUBLE COMES BACK by Keith Snyder - all of which is copyrighted; I would figure out about doing it in a different font but not today. Given that yesterday I had a little trouble determining which side of the toothbrush had the bristles, I think fonts are way beyond me right about now.) (Oh and Keith? For the record, I finally had a Manhattan special - new owners of my local coffee joint from Brooklyn stock it. Yum.)


In Newark, they herded to the baggage carousel. Watching for their bags, Robert said "I want an egg cream before we leave."

"An egg cream in New York is a bar mitzvah requirement, isn't it?"

"It depends. If you're Reform, you have an egg cream. If you're Orthodox, you learn Aramaic."

"What if you're Conservative?"

"You work on a kibbutz for a month and then become a civil rights attorney."