I am so very glad that I have a buffer of joy to bolster me, because yesterday's bliss bubble was sent slightly off-course by what I'm assuming is a team of sulfur-breathing dragons pulling a spiked chariot carrying two or three hundred writhing demons across the sky. (Optimistic response: How delightful to be part of the dynamic and ever-changing tapestry of life! Actual response: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. Actual follow-up response: A tapestry can be neither dynamic nor ever-changing, dumbass.)

The first thing I noticed is that the lovely robin's-egg blue archways have now been painted a deep, strident peacock blue, one of my least favorite colors. This is not worthy of serious complaint, but I mention it only because I found yesterday's color auspicious, the color change struck me as ominous.

From that small beginning, everything started to go to Hell, including the announcement that there will be lay-offs. Next, nearly every element of the meeting I've been planning for weeks has blown up in my face. The details are dull, but my faith has been renewed in the ability of large groups of people to foster resentment over minor issues.

So. I am gathering my skirts and keeping my chin up, Scarlett O'Hara-style, although I really dislike Gone With the Wind. And all other movies about plucky women, really: The Unsinkable Molly Brown makes me want to pull my eyebrows out one hair at a time.

I don't really need pluck right now anyway, I need grace.

And a gallon of robin's-egg-blue paint.

Star of the day. . .Norma Shearer