Two 40-pack boxes of o.b. Ultra are currently selling for $100 on eBay

I can't even cry anymore. Not for her, or my brother, or my dog, or anything. I'm just going about my day, working, doing trivial things, surfing the web, waiting to see what happens next.

I'd be worried about how dissociated I am about all this, but I'm too dissociated to give a shit.

I remember that one. I called it The Zombie Shuffle, where you just walk numbly and keep moving.

Remember that whole "Come to San Francisco and get spoiled!" plan? Still on, whenever you can.

Suzi, that hardly seems fair. If Emmett got suspended every time he ever pushed somebody at school he'd be home every day.

He had his Bio final this morning and then they let him out, so he's now on the couch watching Pulp Fiction. We studied for about three hours last night. Though the first part involved a fight when I felt he had wasted half the day instead of preparing, and then I didn't much appreciate him slumping over on the bed, with no energy or focus. But we got past that and covered all ten chapters, and I pointed out the astonishing fact that every chapter has a Review section followed by an Assessment page ("That's code, Emmett, for 'just like the Test'. Answer these questions and you'll be well on your way to a decent grade.")

Good news, brenda! I wish we had better luck trying to cash out JZ's once-forgotten stock. The company got bought and traded three times and nobody wants to pony up the money after nine months of inquiries.

amyth, what Sail and others have said is true. Your brain is cushioning things, because that's a lot all at the same time. I'm so sorry.

That sounds like a wonderful plan, Scrappy. May you enjoy it as much as she.

Suzi, you're a much better mom than I. I would have to tell the kid I thought the school was capricious and unfair in its punitive measures. Although we do have to abide by their rules, they're asshats. And go to the Food Network thing anyway, to cheer you both up. But I was too chickenhearted to be Mean Mama a lot of times (not to hear my kids tell it, of course).

How bad am I that I studied the polish picture for several minutes, ID'ing brands by bottle shape, and where obscured by cap design, and trying to guess colors within each brand? I couldn't wait for the box, and sent a bottle I'll never wear again and I know she loves home with Cass the other day.

Dude! The FBI just showed up at my door!

Whyfor?

In a good way?

Say 'Hi' to Scully for me!

In a good way?

How is that even possible?

Suzi, I feel you on the ick. I've had some kind of vague little cold for 10 days that decided to become a real cold on Monday. Today is the first day of week 3. I currently sound like someone with lifelong bottle of whisky and 2 packs a day habit.

Yoga should be fun tonight.

Okay, not looking for me and my nefarious activities, as it turns out. Looking for someone else, a witness to a crime. But he already knew by the time he got to my door that it wasn't the right place, because the numbers didn't match up with the street.

But still! Black SUV! Guy in sunglasses! I totally looked at his id so that I'd know what it should look like should I need to know in the future!

But now I'm consumed with curiosity as to where the person he's actually looking for is.