My friend S says my last blog entry sounded like things were bad again and she was all trepidatious about talking to me. Things, actually, are totally fine - I'm just regular normal tired and cranky. Nothing extreme. Nothing scary. Life is good. Life is, in fact, very fucking good, but I'm not talking about all that. However, you know, there are these daily irritations that involve getting up in the morning and going to work and so on and so forth, when one would so much rather be lying around smoking opium and wearing a crepe de chine wrapper and getting the butler to bring one a lovely g & t and some chocolates. One is having an Edwardian moment again and darling, don't we all?