Saturday morning and I've just returned from San Francisco after signing up for an Adobe Illustrator class. I wanted PhotoShop, but everybody wanted PhotoShop, so it's full. The fellow I talked with suggested I keep checking as they will add additional classes on the fly for classes heavily in demand and PhotoShop is a good bet. No surprises, no complaints. Illustrator should be fine, I don't use it nearly as much as I would like, and my approach is to take one or two of these classes and sort it out later. If they turn out, fine, I'll take more. If they don't, then I won't. Take them for the next ten years, take them for the next two months, but take 'em and get me off my butt. And maybe find out if they have a photography curriculum. Or some cute older coeds with big Adobe type libraries and time on their hands. And their knees. And their thighs. And their tummy-tum-tums.

Good day, BART over to San Francisco and back, then drive (not walk, you'll notice) down to the lake for a cup of coffee and a muffin made and baked with every sort of wonderful ingredient, I'm quite certain (no, it's not a Starbucks, but it is a Bay Area cafe, after all), but also, I'm also quite certain, made with every sticky gummy calorie ever invented that's expressed a desire to homestead my arteries and my veins and my teeth and my toes because that is the way of muffins, my friend, which makes them very good with coffee so I had two.

Wuss seems better. I've been feeding him pills now for the last week, the first one running out yesterday and the second finishing tomorrow. What can I say? He's not as smelly as he was. He doesn't seem to be peeing on the rug, at least not where I can see it, and he's eating the vet cat food without throwing up... as often. He's doing fine. Really.