cattitude and I went over to help our friend L do some emergency house-tidying, because contractors are showing up tomorrow to replace her windows, and need to be able to get to them. So we carried various things out of the apartment--some down to the basement as trash, some just out in the hall for the moment; L's boyfriend and I assembled a set of shelves; and I felt rather overwhelmed by the whole thing (and the humidity), and left sooner than I'd intended. If I feel better tomorrow, I'll be going to keep her company--after the plumbers managed to set a fire in her bathroom wall, she doesn't want to leave contractors unattended even for a moment, so I'll be some combination of moral support and a watch-bird if she needs to go to the bathroom.
On the way home, Cattitude and I were changing seats on the subway (well, I was
changing seats; he'd been standing). I was closer to him than he realized, and he knocked my Palm out of my hand and onto the floor. My immediate reaction was that it's been in sad shape anyway, and likely no harm done. It turned out, though, that he'd knocked some sense back into it: it once again recognizes input from a corner of the screen that it had been numb to for the last few days. So that's all right.