At the car place they were talking on the phone with the junkyard -- the headlight motor was still on the car. So nothing -- have to go in Monday to have it bolted on. Curses, I wanted it NOW! I can't imagine why I didn't do it before this. Gee, it's caused me no end of suffering. I have so little right with my own body that it makes me want to fix things on my car -- as I left the bodywork place today I was fantasizing about going to a body shop and having my own body fixed. Talking about getting fixed -- my two fourth graders were quizzing me on my lack of grandchildren, children, husbands, boyfriends. "Are you a nun?," George asked, "It seems like it." Seems like it to me, too, George. When I got sick with the M.S. my marriage abruptly ended. That was a weird year -- no marriage, no place to live, no money, unknown ability to do the job I had. Tried to get back with my husband, but that didn't work. I will always be grateful to my brother-in-law for telling me not to put off getting a divorce. He was absolutely right. A while after that I wound up living with someone for maybe four years. Since then I've been on my own, but that's all right. If I just had a slight bit better physical ability I'd be quite happy. I'm more or less reconciled to not being able to paint. I used to think how wonderful it was to be an artist -- you can go on all your life, as opposed to being, say, a ballerina, and having to give it up at some point. Well, I was right... but not about the details. I'm still an artist, though.