Yesterday, Maureen Johnson www.maureenjohnsonbooks.com/index1.html tried to kill me.

Here’s how it went down. Yesterday—bad day. I felt generally unwell and Woody Allen-ish, i.e., it was the sort of day in which I did not seem right in my skin and I was certain this was a portent of my impending doom. Some people feel not right and they think, oh, I should get more sleep, or hey, maybe if I eat some protein and drink some water I’ll be right as rain. This goes against my fatalism. No, when I ...