The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Way I Feel

Surprised. Some instant coffee isn't all that bad. They must have improved the technology. Still, I prefer to grind my own. I need to buy some beans this weekend.

Interested. In seeing Paul Thomas Anderson's new film The Master, thanks to everything I hear and read and see about it. Gosh, I wonder what Tom Cruise will think of it. Kudos to any reporter who asks him.

Accomplished. I'm up to page 170 of this book of mine that I'm formatting, and I'm not at the end yet. I didn't think it would stretch out to such a length. I may be using a too large font, although it's the one that KreateSpase recommends. Formatting is a tedious bitch, by the way. You have to kill those widows. (No, I don't mean women whose husbands have died. It's a printing term.)

Sneezy. My nose knows: there must be a lot of invisible ragweed floating around now. This is the time of year, almost jacket weather, when the sternutation starts.

Fecund. The grass seeds I planted out back in the bare spots of our patch (I hesitate to call it a yard) have sprouted. I now have a slightly larger savanna to watch over. And mow. Someday I want to have a picture taken of myself mowing, dressed like this: