This is going to be a trying day, I can tell. I slept late, much later than people with lives do. I was really enjoying the air-conditioned comfort of my bed, and dreaming fantastic dreams about god-knows-what. I really want to have a hot dog or two for lunch, but I'm having one or two for dinner (when I will prepare the "hot dogs wrapped in crescent rolls with cheese" dish we alll love so well). What does this leave for lunching? Maybe a falafel sandwich.

Last night I spent hanging around with musician-type-people. People exactly like you or I, except they can play an instrument well enough to be in a band that goes on tour. For this reason, girls will take pictures of them. Girls do not take pictures of me, because I do not appear to have any talents. God bless the musicians.

I need to clean up around here. If people are coming over for the grappling action, there ought to be a place for them to rest their weary selves. I had a laughable thought the other day: I would keep my apartment in better order if I were working during the day. Wouldn't I just be less likely to want to clean it if I were spending less time in it? It's not like my kitchen stays neater when I don't cook.

Speaking of not cooking, I remember one more great reason to live in the city. Buying pizza by the slice. It doesn't make sense anywhere else. Are you going to drive a mile or two for one slice of pizza? No way. Would you walk a block or so for a single slice, if you were just that hungry? Of course you would. I guess the same logic applies to hot dogs and falafel sandwiches. Aren't cities grand?