May 29, 2005
Something strange happened with my dictaphone. I'm not sure why, but the damn thing accidentally recorded about six hours of me working in the study about two weeks ago. I had not noticed the recording until I found I was out of tape. Well, I sat down and spent almost a full day replaying what I had done. Much of it was non-verbal. It was a curious recitation. I was amazed at how often I sang under my breath. And apparently I move a lot, if the squealing caster on my desk chair gives fair testimony. I'm happy to report, Diary, that Manolo steadied my hand with a wonderful double orange blaster. Off to the papers, Diary.