"I feel it now. I hope you feel it, too."

I am something that approximates free today. Like a great weight has been lifted from me. I fully expect it to be lowered back onto me as soon as I straighten out my posture and begin stretching my arms. But in the meantime, I feel as if I am floating. The sky is so clear. Dollops of clouds sit above the Hollywood Hills. They look as they did to me when I was driving up to this office on that first day of October. I said then -- as I do now -- that they look like Simpsons clouds. And they do.

My desk is golden, with long shadows running across it. Brilliant sunlight. Severed light in prisms above my keyboard. And I can see my reflection in the window. And I feel as if I am beginning to look like myself again. I was afraid I might have lost that altogether.

Maybe Jo was right. Maybe it was the phase of the moon.

The green looks different today. I see trees that are the color of ripe peas. And sherbet-colored houses and out-of-place turrets on Angle-inspired apartment buildings. There are a million shades of green in the trees today.

The flowering plant on my window ledge is thriving. I will pretend not to know that it is artificial.