lisah needs a snack basket. Or a minifridge. Or a dumbwaiter.

Or a helper monkey who travels by dumbwaiter. Why has that never been in a movie?

Or a Rube Goldberg contraption like Pee Wee's breakfast machine.

A tiny little train that chugs up the incline of the bannister and dumps Chex Mix into her mouth.

It's a glorious morning in San Francisco.

EM is coming over to do paperwork and listen to me complain about the great insurance switcheroo and my tedious travels through phone trees, then watch me give a two hour tour of the now cleaned nerdhole (all 40 square feet of it), and then lay out my Less Janky aesthetic and life plan.

My body is thoroughly stiff from yesterday's pilates and I've got another session at 2 today. Sore!

Today's goal: get my friend Betty's bday package in the mail. As you all know, getting things actually into the mail is about as difficult as free climbing the north face of El Capitan.

Schrodinger's Senator. snerk.

I did not starve! But I am thinking about storing snacks upstairs.

I also thought dumbwaiter! But now I'm thinking a Wallace & Gromit style device to deliver buttered toast or something would be a fun project. For someone.

But now I'm thinking a Wallace & Gromit style device to deliver buttered toast or something would be a fun project. For someone.

Tim is always willing to tinker with mad science-style contraptions and shenanigans, but included in the fine print is that he cannot guarantee a delivery date. And by "delivery date," I mean "year."