Today is the day of jackhammers and heavy machinery. I woke up this morning to the sweet, gentle strains of a backhoe-mounted reciprocal pick chipping out the concrete in the back alley behind my house; both cats looked at me wide-eyed like I was, perhaps, calling the apocalypse unto them. I got ready for work and left the house, and upon arrival at work found another backhoe lifting great sheets of the pavement in the parking lot into a dump truck. Now the seat under my butt vibrates like Joey Buttafuoco’s pager ringing a ‘007’ from Amy Fisher.

Oh, Martha, I have found a gorgeous, sad, wonderful song: Trouble by Coldplay.