I scratch my eyelids, thinking of something to type here. For some reason, the recurring image in my head are the sand dunes of Morocco I saw in Globe Trekker. Vast and arid, yes, but is a constant reminder of one's puny presence in proportion to this visually rewarding landscape. My eyelids, in the meantime are starting to drop and sag - is it on account of today's struggle to get out of bed? is it mediating between two conflicting voices in my head? (just when I thought I've exiled them to oblivion) is it he maneuvering of my poor Mimi from VetMed to Tantan's apartment? is it the awareness of a day - no, make it a week - just concluded? Hey, Maria Mena's You're the Only One is playing. A better lyric rambler than Alanis Morrisette, whose idea of song lyrics is the ability to cram as many words as possible, each word having as many syllables as possible. Have to write something about Mrs. Small.