Through the window, when I'm not looking directly at it, I keep seeing what look like giant snowflakes shooting by, but it's only the birds, with the sun reflecting off of their wings. Does this happen all the time? I set Morag in front of the window to get some light, and it seems from here that she's watching the tree outside. I've got a plant called Morag.

All week long I was cold, not outdoors, but in. No place has been colder than home. I kept forgetting the windows open too long and by the time I remembered, I had to go to bed under heavy piles of covers. This apartment holds the cold well, it's been days behind. Outside, everything has been fine, the air feels good the way it does when you notice it for the first time in a long time, the way you notice it when it goes from being one kind of air to another. Anyway, everything has finally evened out, and I'm inside now and not cold at all. I'm excited about the weather this weekend. I'm happy to be excited about weather. The weather man said it's because he wore his lucky tie. They get so pleased with themselves when the weather turns nice.

I get disoriented really easily. When I'm reading something, or watching something, or half asleep thinking about who knows what, I completely forget where and when I am. I can daydream my way for blocks, letting the physical part of me remember how far to go and when to turn, when to stop for cars. Then the telephone rings, or someone asks me a question, or I feel like I might sneeze, and suddenly I'm just where I am, when I am, and I don't know. I try to hold on to that feeling for a while, but it can't last more than a second.

Right now I keep forgetting something, over and over, I forget that I never went to sleep last night. I forget that it's tomorrow, not today. I haven't had any tea, but I feel fine. I know that it isn't really spring, but I can't help it. Whenever the weather changes I'm convinced that our whole lives are starting over again. Yesterday I was walking past a driveway that slopes right steep down to a garage door, and an orange rolled right up it at me. There wasn't anyone around. It could have been a stray cat, I guess, hiding in the shrubs with a sack of oranges, darting out to bowl an orange up the driveway when someone passes and darting right back in before it reaches the top. Or it could just be the weather.