Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Today was the first time in about three weeks that I've felt capable of walking all the way to the clinic to get my prescriptions refilled. Ironically, it was also the day I had a ride ... (I try to refill them as soon as the insurance will let me, 24-25 days after the previous refill, so as to build up a buffer against too many days in a row of not feeling well enough to get them. This time I used up all of my buffer and had actually run out of a couple of meds two days ago.) Despite feeling like I maybe coulda' done it on my own, it's probably more than a little good thing that I had a ride, because after being driven to the clinic and then going a couple of other places, I'm right on the edge of exhausted-to-tears. So I'm not going to try to walk to the nearer grocery store tonight. Maybe tomorrow. I'm just going to program the VCR, pet Perrine, and peek a little more at what folks are saying about the latest news out of Six Apart -- what appears to me to be a feature and misfeature tangled together.

A story-fragment that crawled into my brain last night (er ... this morning) as I was trying to fall asleep, in need of a story to put it into:

"She died with a guitar in her hands. Her last words were:

"--played with a stare and a nod to each person in the room, before she crumpled to the floor, the guitar still clutched in her dead hands."

Hey, if this inspires one of my friends who actually gets around to writing stories when inspired (I get lots of ideas but complete very few tales), go for it, and if you use this melody and I ever get around to writing my own story to put this in, I'll make up a new melody.