It's wednesday. Do you want to know how dull it is to be confined to bed seventeen hours a day (sorry if this whine isn't as bad as being a parapalegic or something). On Wednesday, Jetpens.com sends out their weekly advert. I look forward to it. Sad yeah? The pens pile up and the muse has abdicated her pedestal or throne or whatever it is a muse is mounted upon. A small part of me is so juvenile that the word mount nearly brought on giggles. The daughter returns tomorrow. We spoke briefly and she says her friend David (whose ccndo she is staying at, on the beach in san diego) has no cable or internet, so she's been on the beach every day watching surfing contests etc. Sounds like heaven to me, but she's struggling because a job opened and she needs to work on her application. She has a doctorate in physics, specifically astrophysics, and the job is on a mountain in a desert with a telescope and she really wants this one. I hope she gets it. I also hope that I'll walk. I think my hopes are like those weak sperms that never get to the egg. Impotent.