Do you remember the first job you had that required you to conduct professional correspondence and how much that freaked you out? I�m terribly thrilled that my first task of the day will be to write a business letter. It�s now delightful fun. I suspect I should include an apology for waking the lady up last week. Why can�t I remember that the west coast people are 3 hours behind us?

Here�s a short summary of the weekend: It was excruciatingly hot.

A symbolic (yet true) summary of the weekend: I was nearly eaten by a German Shepherd Saturday morning.

As far as weddings are concerned, I have something to say. Everybody please be very quiet and listen carefully, okay? I do not mind being single. I am in no great hurry to be married. I am having a good time. Mostly. I do not need to be singled out at the reception for being �the only one left,� or anything along those lines. I also don�t need reassurance that I, too, may someday find someone who will put up with me.

This wedding, however, made me realize there are a few more things for me to consider before taking my rent-a-bridesmaid act on the road. Yes, I can do the flower arrangements, but I need to add some depth to the performance itself. I have proved my prowess at the drunken bridesmaid role, but I hadn�t realized I could also offer an option to be the bridesmaid with visible tattoos or the sobbing bridesmaid. I wonder what other attributes I should offer?

In the end, we left the reception fairly early. It was too hot. I did not dance, though I�d promised to do so. The single comments perhaps contributed to the feeling of heat. Spitfire.

Yesterday we shopped in grand ol� Peoria. Could I have a nice time and be happy? Of course not. At the checkout at TJ Maxx, the clerk asked if I wanted to donate $1 to Save the Children. I was startled by the question and immediately declined. I feel very strongly that it�s nobody else�s business how I spend my money and which causes I choose to support. I will select them on my own, I will investigate how much of my money will go toward overhead and how much will actually be put to good use. I resent being accosted at work and in public to donate money. But I still made the purchase, so my objection carries little weight. And I was burdened by guilt that I�d just rejected the children.

For the record, I don�t really see any reason to be a Marxist.

I also see no reason to attend an air show of any sort. They make me nervous.

So I accomplished little over the weekend, and I apologize for the present ugly look of this page. I was messing about last week and haven�t fixed it.

I�m hoping I can at least sleep on the couch tonight. The floor, while marginally cooler, is a bit too much like camping.

One more delightful thing: It seems that Dave Eggers will have a book coming out soon. How am I not on the McSweeney�s mailing list? Well, it�s pleasant bookish news.

And word on the streets is that Michael Chabon will be editing McSweeney�s #10, which will include stories from many genres.

I now go in search of gazpacho.