-- Friday, February 5, 2000 --

12:52 a.m. Well, Igor went to the market today after a long hiatus of no market/all work/no food/all work all the time. I should have gone with him. I should, at least, have fed him first. He is an accomplished hunter/gatherer and he skipped lunch so he'd be hungry and honed. He brought approximately fifteen different bags of chips and/or pretzelly/nubby things, Mach Overdrive razor blades, beer, and precious little else. A barbecued chicken. Two big hero sandwiches dripping in mayo. More beer. A big hunk of Cajun meatloaf.

Did you know that razor blades cost $15 for one tiny package? (It was shiny.) Imported cheese -- almost $10 for a little triangle. Not a single piece of fruit, and it's the middle of the winter. Taco-type things in cans, bags of cookies, but not a single, solitary fresh vegetable.

I've really got to make a better list next time I delegate. I wonder if feeling just generally rickety might be one of the early warning signs of rickets?

Speaking of nibbly things, I managed to get the frozen corn out of the camera right before it conked out. It actually doesn't look all that interesting a shot, now that I stare at it from a more artistic angle. Ditto my day-o. Trying to get back into the ordinary work load now that an extraordinary project has been pushed through the pipe lines.

Trying to resume all the neglected details that really aren't all that interesting to list, and I can't help but notice that there must be a lot of picking up I do every day, because if I stop doing it for a few days, there is rampant squalor.

By the way, you might notice that I've got a whole lot of tempting treats laid out tonight because I am hoping to make amends with my favorite puppies, whom I have made sad. Did I say kitties? I meant puppies. It was always puppies; never kitties. What was I thinking?

Feh to cats who meow in the night. Give me precious, subtle puppies who know how to plot and foment and run heavy machinery. Puppies won't mind squalor. Puppies will scoot under the furniture and emerge triumphant, covered in dust balls. Puppies will enjoy a vast array of chaos and chips.

So, tonight there's a change in plans. I'm dumping the saucer of milk and leaving the lid on the toilet seat up.

And, I have pupperoni. Pepperoni. Really. I meant pepperoni.