Today is the day I go to get manhandled again, which event, should all go well, will return my neck to good order and allow me to sit in one spot for longer periods, thus allowing me to do a bit of catching up. I did get some spam deleted tonight, and was rather surprised that the amount finding its way to my Lycos inbox (my main spam trap) has declined remarkably. I'd say there was less than a third as much as I expected to find. Does a spam shortage loom? What will I ever do without my full supply of subject lines such as "Satellite 1 Bodice Rippers" and "light bulb 8 looking glasses," and the piece I received from one Forrest Cobb, headed "I am a tree, you are my leaves?"
Last night was fanned by cool breezes and decorated with the dense stars of the milky way, making it more pleasant than recent nights. I suppose Sluggo might have enjoyed the change, as well, but my inability to sit in the same spot for more than a few minutes made it unnecessary to test his mood. Instead, he got lots of nap time. I do hope he shows his gratitude by behaving himself for a while.
I will now flatten myself for a few hours, in preparation for the trauma to take place at four o'clock this afternoon. The ice is ready.