Things limped along.  Or I did.  The toe was healing.  Slowly.   My wife came and went in the house when I was gone working, getting things.  The dog and the cat were upset by the disruption.  I was O.K. at work and morose at night.  But something miraculous came my way--a brand new jet black clamshell Apple laptop computer with gold keys.  And it was there that I began my new journal called "Divorce Blues."  I had written journals off and on for years, but I had never typed one, and the speed with which I could lay down "the word" on the computer was something.  I loved the feel of the keys, the ease with which I could make my mark.  And so the morning routine began.  Coffee and the laptop.  The writing, of course, focussed on the consequences of my wife's leaving, so there was always something to say.  What surprised me, though, was the wholeness of each day's writing.  I didn't try to make narratives, but most often there were beginnings, middles and ends to the entry.  They varied in length, but each day they seemed to grow longer until they were a thousand, two thousand words in length.  Most days.

And the more I wrote, the more things happened.  As a narrative, my life was going fast.