12:20 a.m. Over the line, technically, but I can live with it. I'm feeling so much better. In fact, I'm feeling as energetic and awake as I ever did with coffee. Now, how can that be?

Could it be -- the party bearing down? Could it be -- sheer terror? I mean, how stupid was I to start painting before a hundred various eyeballs are going to be scanning over the place? Not to mention the digi cameras and the odd ability to recall and report on the part of the partygoers, not to mention the fact that a whole bunch of them own and operate working websites and tell-it-like-it-is journals. Hmmmmm. You mean, it's not Juan Valdez that's got me all aflutter?

I've made a small but growing list of things to do. Indulge me.

1. fix counter.
2. scrape windows.
3. screw chair cushions.
4. fix wobbly light.
5. fix the speaker wires. 

You see, my house is sort of booby-trapped and somewhat jerry-rigged and since there will be more people than I can keep a vigilant eye on, I'm going to have to fix some of the things that are likely to fall over, fall apart, or entrap the unwary in their innards if they try to sit on it.

1. Now I don't mean the hit counter at the bottom of the page, but rather the center island that I constructed myself, when we were moving in, by telling the guys to just leave the bookshelves right there. That's right. Right there in the middle of the kitchen. Four bookshelves, back to back. It's quite nice and functional, until you lean on one of the nifty green tiles I got from Home Despot and the tile and your drink flip up in a nasty way.

So tomorrow, I'm going to grout for the first time. How hard can it be?

2. I tend to paint up to and all over the glass when I paint frames. I love to use a straightedged razor and scrape off the dried paint into long curls. Don't even try to tell me there's some kind of putty seal that I'm breaking. Do you know how much I don't care?

3. The chair cushions are a variation on the countertop theme, but this time, there could be personal injury involved. I've got the screws and a brand-new multi-headed screwdriver that is really quite nifty. I may or may not complete this task. Life is full of danger.

4. Well, the wobbly light is a different matter entirely. There's the floor lamp itself, an antique. Then you screw in a bulb. Then the improvisation begins. I have three different long screws that I've jammed into three holes around where the bulb screws in. The screws stick out, oh, about 2 inches. That's the point.

On top of the screws I've balanced a wide-mouthed ball jar upside down, over the bulb. On top of the jar I've got a nice '50s lamp shade that I've loved ever since I saw at a yard sale on Shelter Island. The people having the sale were proud to call themselves "hairleggers", which is the term the islanders use for people who live there year round after the tourist season is over.

It's a great shade. It has no other visible means of support, but if you so much as breathe on the whole array the wrong way, it all comes crashing in on itself. A lot of clattering and multiple-angled chaos. I plan to try to tape it all up, somehow. Or move the lamp out of the way.

5. The stereo speakers and their wire. Well, I just can't imagine why people would give up on albums so easily. So, I haven't. In fact, just this past Saturday when we went out on our mission to cure my infection, we stopped off at the library for their used-book sale and bought a few more.

Books and albums. An original Fred and Adele Astaire (Lady be Good) and an collection of risqué, unpublished Cole Porter songs by people like Blossom Dearie and Kaye Ballard. Ben Bagley, who wrote the liner notes, talks about some of the songs that were cut from shows. Ethel Merman refused to sing "Kate the Great" because of its "references to lesbianism and the making of the clergy." "Dainty Quainty Me" was refused by Bert Lahr "because of the enema line."

I'm going to listen closely and report exactly how Cole Porter makes an enema witty. Somebody's got to. But first, I've got to repair the speaker wire.

So, I'd better get going. Busy, busy, busy. It's Wednesday already.