Behold the Japanese Maple: It Doth Not Weave, Spin or Write Internet Content

This is what Japanese maples look like in high fall – red, delicate, beautiful.

I had a great weekend, first attending a highly entertaining birthday party, then being taken for a spin through the deserted streets of Washington Heights at 3 in the morning, kind of transcendent Maurice Sendak's Into the Night Kitchen meets The Royal Tannenbaums experience. I was in a highly delighted state of mind, having sampled various contraband substances for the first time in many years at the highly entertaining birthday party. I felt as though I was very close to the Great Secret. That the Great Secret wanted to reveal itself to me, but was a little shy on account of it didn't know whether or not I would like its shoes.

Then came Monday with its unrelentingly grey sky and Seasonal Affective Disorder kicked in again.

They named the disorder after the acronym, right?

Money is a problem. Right now, I'm working for two operations. One pays much better but only twice a month. The other pays every week, but there is a relatively lengthy processing period.

Other people make a decent living doing this. I should be able to do it too. They're not smarter than I am.

It's really a matter of discipline.

I figured out the car's electrical problem. It's the glove compartment. The latch broke, I couldn't figure out how to close it. The little light went on and drained the battery. I'm not sure that it's actually cheaper to fix a glove compartment than an alternator, frankly. But I guess that investigation is in the relatively near future.

This is what I look like in high fall. Fragile.