This is what they call a diary entry: 5.19.06

Woke up at 6:30, fell back to sleep with the puss purring up a storm curled into my arm, and S. on the other side. Got up for real. Showered with the puss sitting on the ledge offering random meows. Realized the dry cleaner had royally ruined a pair of pants with bizarre burn marks. Stewed for a few minutes. Trundled out for the ride to work. The river was blue, the bridges arched sturdy and solid, the Georgetown rowing team passed us at a quick clip. At some point, our conversation slipped into S. singing Ashford and Simpson's "Solid As A Rock" in his Truman Capote accent.

At work, got this in my inbox: "Would you bring a hard copy of what you gave the boss yesterday? The guy was in tears he was so happy." Chitchatting with someone, learned that the ooky girls still all have lunch together and never ask me. Stewed for a few minutes. Stewed for a few more mintues. Wrote this down.