I am feeling slightly better since my encounter via phone with Mr. C.

I called the Keelhauler to commiserate with me, which was marginally successful, in that he reminded me not to take it personally through these helpful words: "It's not like he was aiming for you specifically; it's like he was shooting into a crowd and you got hit." It's true. It wasn't personal. But it still raised my blood pressure, although I didn't have the proper tools to measure the difference. That would be cool, though.

After I talked to the Keelhauler, I walked over to the Italian deli, where I waited in a long line of jovial construction workers and finally got to the sandwich man. In a radical departure from the usual elderly taciturn sandwich man, this one was tall and young and cute, and when I asked politely how he was, he said slowly, "Soooooooooo good, now that you have come to my sandwich line."

That represented a marked improvement in my day and although I applied the same logic I'd used in processing Mr. C.'s rage-a-thon (i.e., It's Not Personal), Sandwich Boy's remark made me feel amused and happy.

Two total strangers, two innocuous encounters, two radically different reactions.

I could go on about It Takes Only One Person To Make a Difference, or whatever, but it's simpler to cut through the treacle and sum it up thusly: I'm obviously nuts.

P.S.

My horoscope for today: Dignity and sanity are high on your must-have list, especially in light of all the recent compromises and sacrifices you've made. Go ahead and declare your independence from the self-absorbed and the selfish. So... yeah.

Star of the day. . .Victoria Galinsky