Blarg. It's one of those mornings when you're overcome with a sudden disgust with the (stagnant) status quo. It's not that I'm bored; in fact I'm actually somewhat angry. And I don't feel this way because I've suddenly gone crazy — no, I feel this way because the fuse has been shortened.

That is to say: I think I have ze cabin fever.

Perhaps a Target shopping spree is in order, or some cake. A break from my routine would have been the ideal prescription, but I bailed on plans to visit Milwaukee this weekend and it's too late to go now. Really, I need appropriate period attire before I visit the Safe House, in any case.

Last night's main event, much to my surprise, was the return of Jenna's friend Patty, most notable in my life for her entertainment value as a rare Hamlinite Book Person and for her ability to enhance the awkwardness of some situations without necessarily being awkward herself.

It's an interesting and unfortunate ability, and ever since my long, awkward car ride with Lawrence's similarly-gifted Celine, I've been fascinated with delineating the whole class of under-appreciated "passive" character traits. The most obvious ones are negative (e.g. the energy-draining "psinks," the craziness-dampening "lids," and a whole host of buzzkiller genera and species), but you could probably find positive effects that aren't necessarily related to anything the person is doing.

(More generally, I'm reminded of the joke about how when you live with a girlfriend, you can only be as happy as the most unhappy person in the room. I would extend that to mixed-gender housemates in general, some days.)

Needless to say, passive traits interact with and in some cases magnify active traits, but so do complementary active traits... and here the theory gets a little shaky. I've still got some work to do on this.

But I have/had more important things to do first, some of which have already evaporated into whispers of intention... it's time for some breakfast, followed by some complicated dessert-enhanced deep breathing exercises. You too can prevent season-related homicide.