MSK told me at the office this morning she'd heard a nurses strike was brewing at Stanford hospital. That I didn't need to hear. Definitely didn't need to hear, but Stanford's had problems. You wonder if someone's trying to tell you something, messages maybe from "out there", but that kind of thinking is trouble.

I suspect Tuesday night's marathon in San Francisco has left me battered. Lots of sleep last night and I'm getting to bed early this evening. Still, tired, working too hard during the day, taking time for little else other than the journal and pictures. That and listening to Public Radio. The Public Radio I've received over my stereo since the beginning of time until the tuner crapped out. So I started streaming it from the Internet these last two weeks thinking, well, I would order one of those swell Bose acoustic wave CD\radios you see in print ads. Five hundred bucks. Thirty day free return if you don't like the sound. Free whoop-dee-do base if you buy one now. For the bedroom. While you're getting better.

Then last night something went wrong with the local PBS web site and I couldn't get the program anymore. This evening there was a new design online, but no mention or link to receive the audio. Bummer. I am sitting here going through withdrawal.

So what does it take for me to actually buy something rather than write about it here ever after? It takes losing my medicines. You can't get through the day without your medicines. So I have one of those Bose print ads beside me. Make the call for medicines tomorrow. Special delivery.