-- Monday, March 27, 2000 --

11:26 p.m. Sometimes Igor has to travel for business and I have to man the barricades and take out the garbage and gather up the mail. And try not to be sad. Or weirdly over vigilant, or paranoid. Or sad.

I really wish that pot full of linguini worked better. Or the mug full of whipped cream. Or silly girlie TV. But, not tonight. I watched as much ZDTV as I wanted ... but ... I'm still feeling low. Disconnected. Uneven.

I switched to a little of bit of Ally McBeal, but tonight's show was not a knee-slapper, so that didn't work. Sure, I have work to do. In fact, more work than that. But it's not working.

So, instead of dwelling, let's change the subject, shall we?

How about this: I completely forget to mention in passing that spring is upon us. The days are getting longer and I am becoming very, very energetic again. Even though I live in the sun and fun capitol of the world, I can still feel the difference. Usually. But not tonight.

Tonight it's still winter. But only for tonight. I'll feel fine tomorrow. Empty, lonely, miserable winter. Long shadows. Deserted. Tonight. Tomorrow. How about we turn this record over and see what the other side sounds like?

I'll pop back here first thing in the morning and you'll see -- I'll find something nice to talk about. It's a miracle -- what the morning can do to a person's brain. I'll be soaking in it; the coffee will have been ground and brewed and from the grit that is tonight's misery I will have concocted a fine pearl of a thought.

You'll see.

Yes, there's plenty to be happy about. First of all, we have the most fabulous garbage system in the world.

It's well-nigh perfect, I must say. They give you, for free, these huge, studly heavy plastic bins with heavy swing lids on them. Black for all things, blue for recycled things, and green (not pictured) for yard clippings.

The lids are too heavy for squirrels to lift. They are attached, so they can't get lost. And did I mention that the whole unit is plastic? Gone is the mechanical symphony of the old days, when timbal and timbre clashed you out of sleep.

They have special trucks now to grab hold of these bins, spin them around and up, and dump them neatly in the garbage cuisinart. Notice, also -- things don't even drop out this way.

Altogether satisfying. No more garbage can pecking order and thievery -- did I mention? The bins are free. If one goes missing, they send out another.

Perfect system. Perfect day.

Sleep is good.