Can I get some angst with that?

Before the alarm woke me, I had a dream in which I was abandoned by a famous blogger (who was very dressed up) and a successful artist (who briefly left some personalized plates for her wedding on a table next to me) in a hospital basement where I was looking after a baby who was in the so-called care of her alcoholic grandmother.

To this I say: WTF, subconscious? Give a girl a break, whydontcha? I realize that I have neither a thriving career, an imminent spouse, nor a baby, borrowed or otherwise, but do we need to trot it all out at once?

So, I'm exhausted, which is a nice way to begin the day. If you need me, I'll be under my desk, freaking out about my empty shell of a life.


In other news, the fog is decidedly back after such an unusually long absence that I think we are obliged to greet it cordially, whether we want to or not.

As I was leaving the house, a Scandinavian nanny passed by with the requisite stroller. It was like spotting the last polar bear in the arctic--a formerly robust species, now nearly extinct. Who the hell does she talk to at the playground one wonders, when everyone else speaks Spanish?