I dont' know if it's the recent full moon, the fact that Jupiter's gone retrograde, or just some low-quality hallucinogen in the water supply, but everything in my little world is just ever-so-sleeeetly off-kilter. The ceiling, for example, above my desk, is buzzing with dozens of bees. In a moment of altruism, I decided to post a note on the conference room door nearby, warning of these bees. It says WARNING! B E E S!! and explains that the room will be closed until the problem is fixed. I even drew a helpful illustration of a bee (with a dashed, loopy line behind it to indicate its direction of motion) and colored it in using two different colors of ink. B E E! I wrote next to it, with an arrow.

Still, people find it necessary to walk to my desk and ask, "So... are there bees in the conference room?" These are the same people who stand by the In/Out board in the lobby and, pointing to Carrie's name, which has a giant red SICK magnet right next to it, ask, "So, is Carrie in?"

"Yes," I want to tell them. "The giant red SICK magnet is a cheap ploy to divert coworkers who lack the determination to walk all the way to her desk, and in that way does she avoid work." Thanks to my Good Judgment training (50% complete) I am able to avoid sarcasm and answer truthfully, with just the sleeeetest bit of edge to my voice, that Carrie is NOT, in fact, in, and in fact will be home SICK for the rest of the day. Perhaps after I complete the Good Judgment training this afternoon, I will be able to resist the urge to let my eyes wander over to the SICK magnet and stare at it meaningfully, or to point at it, or tap the board. I'm just turning into a little clockwork orange, aren't I?

In other news, last night my dearest friend SueB confirmed a rumor I'd heard a while back, concerning the suicide of an old friend of ours. I hadn't seen him in several years, and wasn't able to confirm the rumor, but SueB had some new information. I feel strange, because it's been so long since I've seen him, and seven years since he's been dead, but I've only just learned it for sure. I'll call him Bryan. He was a musician, and yesterday, walking out of my office, I realized that I had one of his songs in my head. I haven't heard that song in more than ten years, so I don't know what brought it to mind. It's not even a song I like--which was my thought, actually, when I realized it was in my head. Of all his songs, why that one? It was an odd coincidence that SueB happened to mention him when we talked last night.

I knew Bryan for a period of several years when I lived in Boston. I used to go see his band, and after they broke up, we'd go out occasionally. He was funny, but infuriating. Once, a couple of years after his band broke up, he and I were out together at a club, and he introduced me to a friend, saying only that I was "a fan of the band from way back." That was probably the last time I saw him. Shortly thereafter, I got a message on my answering machine, telling me that he was checking into rehab. I sent him a homemade card, and we corresponded by mail after he got out and moved into his parents' house. He told me later that I'd been the only person to send him a card in the hospital.

Today, Rob Brezsny's horoscope for Libras advises that we let go of--or exorcise, actually, is the word he uses--ghosts, fantasies and projections that are interfering with our ability to connect with real friends and soul mates. I don't think that the memory of Bryan specifically is preventing me from connecting with my friends and soulmates, but he is representative of a time in my life that I'm almost ready to make peace with.

And what does that mean, besides that I'm getting older?

Star of the day. . .Paul Caruso