America waits in hushed anticipation, one question on its trembling lips: “Does Walker feel better?”

Walker replies (in an impressive, deep voice), “I’m not actually sure.”

Saturday I woke up hopefully (I always feel sort of fair when I first get up), thinking “I can probably manage going to church to set up today…” (as I’ve mentioned, my church meets in a gymnasium, and my team is called on to set up the stage and chairs once every five weeks) “…and then do some Christmas shopping, and get a couple things at the grocery store.”

After an hour or two (spent mostly on the couch) I thought, “I’ll have to call in AWOL on the set-up, but I can probably do some shopping and go to the grocery store. I don’t have much left to buy.”

A couple hours later I said, “I guess I can still get some groceries. That’s not far to drive.”

And then I gave up on the groceries too.

Sunday I spent reading books, in a prone position.

Today I went in to work, and put in my time. I was not a human dynamo, but I was there and I did what a man’s gotta do.

I’m still coughing, though, and still don’t have much of a voice. If it doesn’t clear up soon I suppose I’ll have to see the doctor and inquire delicately about bronchitis.

I stopped at the drug store tonight, and while I was inside a young woman clipped the corner of Mrs. Hermanson, my Tracker, and tore her front bumper off. She had me paged in the store, and gave me her name and phone number (the young woman, that is. Not Mrs. Hermanson). She said she was driving her father’s car, and didn’t have any ID or insurance information on her. She wants to handle it outside insurance.

I’m not delighted about this, and I figure there’s a good chance she’ll just change her phone number once I give her the estimate, but I don’t know what else I could do under the circumstances.

Then again, I suppose if she were out to rip me off, she could have just driven away.



For Pete’s sake, girl, if you wanted to give me your phone number, you could have just introduced yourself!