Full moon, fox screaming somewhere outside my window tonight. Exhausted from so many strangers touching me, hugging me, at the wake this evening, which seemed to go on and on. Service tomorrow: I'll speak at that, and then try to race the snow home. I want to wash my floorboards. I want to stay up late and talk into the night. I want somebody to read me my own dumb story and do all the voices. I want to stop trying so hard to sound good to myself.