All right, just stop.

So unfortunately feeding my sense of impending doom doom doom, with a capital D and a very loud OOOOOO, I've just learned that one of my favorite authors, Terry Pratchett, has been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimers. You can read his statement here, which, like so much of what he writes, is intelligent, phlegmatic, funny and cuttingly real.

I'm not sure how they diagnosed him, since a neurologist friend assures me that a true diagnosis for Alzheimers can only be done via autopsy, but still. And his optimism -- or determination -- to carry on for a long while yet exhorts me to adopt the same positive forward movement. And perhaps much of what could be hard and dooooom-riddled can be otherwise with a better attitude.

Still, I would really like the crap to stop and something very very nice and long-lasting to happen. Not just, you know, tickets to Spamalot or a nice sunny morning without too much work to do (although that would be nice too) but something big and nice. Daniel to stop fighting at school. Ed suddenly getting a to-die-for job in Philadelphia. My asthma improving. Friends moving in next door. An invitation to direct for the RSC.

My computer having not lost the last two days of work. Breakfast.