Well, I guess that's one measure of how I'm doing

[desperance]

It's, um, half twelve on Sunday, and I'm cooking up a storm, but it's a black one. I've aggravated my hand again already, and I've burned the bread; nothing but chaos lies ahead. I'm absurdly tense and swearing at the cats, playing Dylan (Blonde on Blonde, since you ask) - who isn't helping at all - and I really, really want a drink.