But then I think about Tom Petty and how he wrote his best songs when he was thirty-nine

Rabbit, rabbit! My day started far too early, but it was a useful appointment and afterward I got a ginger soda from Clover and browsed around Rodney's and was literally on my way out the door when I spotted a paperback of George Mackay Brown's Greenvoe (1972) lying on a table as if someone else had left it, their loss, and met Marc at Mary Chung's and had only a four-and-a-half-hour conversation but a lot of suan la chow show and stopped by the theater on the way home and vouchsafed unto spatch the dan dan noodles which he has texted to let me know are no more and Steve Berman just notified me that an excerpt from Forget the Sleepless Shores is exclusive content in the latest issue of Lightspeed Magazine, so I can forgive the fact that I burned my mouth on the grilled cheese I made for dinner, even if it seems a stupid finish to the day. I am attempting to amend it by watching TCM. This is not the worst way to start a month.