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April 12, 2002
I'm in a fog. Words, sense, sentences aren't happening. I think I've caught a bit of the kids' excitement, coupled with trying to get all the details in place, pack the clothes and toiletries, arrangements at the kennel for the dog and cat, park passes, transportation to the airport, have the mail held at the post office, it's an endless list of chores. Observations on life or reflections on the ordinary are not forthcoming. My mind is weary of keeping track of it all. I'm rambling, a habit I detest in others and try to avoid. So I'll shut up now.