Last week my mood was horrible, but everything else was great. I mean, the machinery of my life was working beautifully. I got taller, healthier, nicer, brighter, maybe a little bit quieter, but kindly so. Then over the weekend I tumbled down a hill, but I'm recovering. My mood has gone from bad to nonexistent. I'm just here, really. I've sort of quit eating and sleeping, but it's probably temporary. I forgot how much time that gives you. I'm full of nerves pretending to be energy. I ride in taxi cabs, I walk for blocks and blocks, I just keep moving around, covering too much distance. People keep telling me about a play with the same first name as mine, lately. I'm reading a nice book, but sometimes it's too nice and I have to take breaks, or I read a page three times. I think it might be nice to have amnesia.

I saw Detective Gharty from Homicide over on Madison Avenue, and I'm glad to say that he looks a lot less downtrodden in real life than he ever did on television.

All of my crushes have worn off.

Are the sparrows up to something this year, or is it my imagination? There seems to have been a leap in the population, and I like it. They could take over if they were meaner.

I keep forgetting something. Amnesia is only any fun if it's complete.