As much as I pride myself in my ability to be a chameleon and adapt to whatever environment I'm in, I must say that it's nice to be back in my own homestead. I've been solving the transportation problem lately by just never leaving which effectively turns one of the conference rooms into a very small but free apartment. With no privacy. And public bathrooms.

And even when I get home, you'd think that I'd be trying to catch up on errands, but no, instead I find myself lounging around extra hard to make up for the lost day. Like I find myself watching crappy TV shows and so on. I can't even relax in an efficient manner.

So my court-appointed counselor is pretty cool; she was very frank about the fact that they found a little lump that they think is a pre-cursor to full-blown cancer. I admire her bravery and honesty, but I think it's good that she's in a support group as it is. She said that she had to face her life and be at peace with what she's done with it: kids, family, blah blah blah, that sort of learning-about-your-own-mortality-type deal. One person quipped, "Yeah, at least you never got a DUI."

Carroll is all but moved out, and I've been living in a comfortable squalor ever since. I have to go now, though: my bus is leaving.