I'm at work, where I've been practically living and this board is saving my
sanity. Thinking of sanity, I'm calling to mind a story of Fritzie's youth,
when i first moved out of my parents' home into the Big Bad City.

the girl downstairs was an outpatient from the Buffalo Psychiatric Center,
out on a program that mainstreams people into community living. she had her
oddities, Patty did; once when a guy was picking me up for a date, she came
out and flung herself on the hood of his car, screaming that he was breaking
into her apartment and leaving cockroaches there. But I digress.

She came to me one evening and told me, "Liz, I'm thinking of moving out and
subletting my place, and you were the first person I thought of to move in.
but I need to know: will you take my apartment and the cat stay upstairs, or
will the cat be moving downstairs and you keep the upper loft?"

I told her that it was too soon for a definite answer at that time, but after
work i would fully discuss the matter with Fritzie and see what he had to say
about it.

Blessed be,
Baha