Bookworm

The bond hearing that we thought might convene today didn’t, so Michael remains in jail.
He reads every waking moment and sleeps with a towel wrapped around his eyes to block out the fluorescent lights. They’re kept on continuously. When word got to us on Wednesday that his reading glasses had fallen apart, we bought him a new pair.

His cellmates call him “bookworm.”

We’ll be at the InnoVenture conference next week hawking our wares. Maybe because business has been so good, or maybe because the idea of manning a tradeshow booth is so surreal, I’m sort of looking forward to it.

My latest battery of blood tests shows cholesterol up and testosterone down, which means no more eggs for a while and a new prescription for testosterone cream. This will keep me from turning into a woman, no matter how pretty I become.