hot hot hot

August 7, 2001

This Year's Bird List:
Plum Island Bird List

Today's Reading:
The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan

This Year's Reading:
2001 Book List

Today's Starting Pitcher:
Bret Saberhagen

The heat wave is in full swing. The pollen count is off the charts. And I am miserable. My ears are so congested I can barely hear and I feel like my head is under water. I can't think straight or write or spell straight. Makes it kind of hard to think.

I had more to say, particularly about Starship Startup's bizarre dependency on Outlook, but I am incapable of generating anything more than a placeholder here tonight.

I am so out of it that when I called my doctor's office this afternoon to ask if there's some decongestant it's safe for me to take, and they asked for my phone number I drew a blank. Then I idiotically gave them my work phone number, which I had to look up. Needless to say, I never heard back from them. I researched on a zillion web sites and concluded that pseudoephedrine probably won't kill me despite the package warnings, but could I muster the energy to go to the drugstore and get some? Nope.

Plus I think my bonsai cypress tree is dead despite getting plenty of water and full sun as recommended in the manual that came with it. Maybe I'd better take it to the bonsai hospital. Geez, other people keep these little trees indoors, forget to water them, neglect them, and they survive. It's a good thing I'm better at maintaing Wilbur than I am at caring for the pet tree.