So, Téodor seems to have re-instigated the risotto wars, we had to cancel my new book deal, the Presidential election is a gridlock leaning the wrong way, Philippe is about to have his heart broken, the OBGYN tells us the new baby's gender on Thursday, Mr. Bear is incommunicado and behind a month on rent, and my front lawn is looking worse than ever. What's next? Oh yeah: massive Bay Area property taxes, refinishing the hardwood floor in the nursery, and Salvation Army volunteers jumping out from every corner, ringing bells at my face.
My advice to all high school students: flunk 'em while you got 'em, hang back as long as possible. Grades are a false honor. Plumbers make more money than lawyers.