Well, I sit down every day to write a blog but I suspect Ive been too sleepy because I always wake up hours later, disoriented and sweaty and stuck to the leather couch. I dont have much to say I just wanted to post something. Today was uneventful. I gave beef tenderloin to Michael Ondaatje for lunch. Hes a bit of a sourpuss. He wrote The English Patient, amoung other things, if you dont know the name. Now Im going to attempt a bit of xmas shopping and maybe bug Cory at work for a shandy. Sitting here in my winter hat and scarf and no pants on… have a few steps to complete before heading out, obviously.